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I 




CHOICE WORKS OF COOPER. 


REVISED AND CORRECTED SERIES. 


WITH 

NEW INTRODUCTIONS, NOTES, ETC. 


VOL. XVI. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 



THE 


WO ADMIEALS. 

A TALE. 


J. FENIMORE COOPER. 


Come, all ye kindred chieftains of the deep, 

In mighty phalanx round your brother bend; 

Hush every murmur that invades his sleep. 

And guard the laurel that o'ershades your friend. 

Lines on Trippk. 


• I 5 


COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 

WITH THE LATEST REVISION AND CORRECTIONS OF THE AUTHOR. 


NEW YOKK: 

STRINGER & TOWNSEND. 

1 856 . 


.C7^^ 

TvV 


Entered according to Act of Congreffl, in the year 1856, by 
STEINGER & TOWNSEND, 

In the Clerk's Oliice of the District Court of the United States for the Sonthera 

District of New York. 


R. C. Valentine, Stereotyper. 


J. F. Tkow, Printer. 


PEEFAOE. 


It is a strong proof of the diffusive tendency of 
every thing in this country, that America never yet 
collected a fleet. Nothing is wanting to this display of 
power but the will. But a fleet requires only one com- 
mander, and a feeling is fast spreading in the country 
that we ought to be all commanders ; unless the spirit 
of unconstitutional innovation, and usurpation, that is 
now so prevalent, at Washington, be controlled, we may 
expect to hear of proposals to send a committee of Con- 
gress to sea, in command of a squadron. We sincerely 
hope that their first experiment may be made on the 
coast of Africa. 

It has been said of Napoleon that he never could be 
made to understand why his fleets did not obey his 
orders with the same accuracy, as to time and place, as 
his corps d/armee. He made no allowances for the winds 
and currents, and least of all, did he comprehend that 
all important circumstance, that the efficiency of a fleet 
is necessarily confined to the rate of sailing of the dullest 
of its ships. More may be expected from a squadron 
of ten sail, all of which shall be average vessels, in this 
respect, than from the same number of vessels, of which 
one half are fast and the remainder dull. One brigade 
can march as fast as another, but it is not so with vessels. 

V 


6 


PREFACE. 


The efficiency of a marine, therefore, depends rather on 
its working qualities, than on its number of ships. 

Perhaps the best fleet that ever sailed under the ' 
English flag, was that with which Nelson fought the 
battle of the Nile. It consisted of twelve or thirteen 
small seventy-fours, each of approved qualities, and 
commanded by an officer of known merit. In all re- 
spects it was efficient and reliable. With such men as 
Hallowell, Hood, Trowbridge, Foley, Ball, and others, 
and with such ships, the great spirit of Nelson was 
satisfied. He knew that whatever seamen could do, his 
comparatively little force could achieve. When his 
enemy was discovered at anchor, though night was ap- 
proaching and his vessels were a good deal scattered, he 
at once determined to put the qualities we have mention- 
ed to the highest proof, and to attack. This was done 
without any other order of battle than that which di- 
rected each commander to get as close alongside of an 
enemy as possible, the best proof of the high confidence 
he had in his ships and in their commanders. 

It is now known that all the early accounts of the 
manoeuvring at the Nile, and of Nelson’s reasoning on 
the subject of anchoring inside and of doubling on his 
enemies, is pure fiction. The “Life” by Southey, in all 
that relates to this feature of the day, is pure fiction, as, 
indeed, are other portions of the work of scarcely less 
importance. This fact came to the writer, through the 
late Commodore (Charles Yalentine) Morris, from Sir 
Alexander Ball, in the early part of the century. In 
that day it would not have done to proclaim it, so tena- 
cious is public opinion of its errors ; but since that time 


PREFACE. 


7 


naval officers of rank have written on the subject, and 
stripped the Nile, Trafalgar, &c., of their poetry, to give 
the world plain, nautical, and probable accounts of both 
those great achievements. The truth, as relates to both 
battles, was just as little like the previously published 
accounts, as well could be. 

Nelson knew the great superiority of the English 
seamen, their facility in repairing damages, and most of 
all the high advantage possessed by the fleets of his 
country, in the exercise of the assumed right to impress, 
a practice that put not only the best seamen of his own 
country, but those of the whole w^orld, more or less, at 
his mercy. His great merit, at the Nile, was in the just 
appreciation of these advantages, and in the extraordi- 
nary decision which led him to go into action just at 
night-fall, rather than give his enemy time to prepare to 
meet the shock. 

It is now known that the French were taken, in a 
great measure, by surprise. A large portion of their 
crews were on shore, and did not get off to their ships 
at all, and there was scarce a vessel that did not clear 
the decks, by tumbling the mess-chests, bags, &c., into 
the inside batteries, rendering them, in a measure, useless, 
when the English doubled on their line. 

It was this doubling on the French line, by anchor- 
ing inside, and putting two ships upon one, that gave 
Nelson so high a reputation as a tactician. The merit 
of this manoeuvre belongs exclusively to one of his 
captains. As the fleet went in, without any order, keep- 
ing as much to windward as the shoals would permit. 
Nelson ordered the Vanguard hove-to, to take a pilot 


8 


PREFACE. 


out of a fisherman. This enabled Foley, Hood, and one 
or two more to pass that fast ship. It was at this critical 
moment that the thought occured to Foley (we think 
this was the officer) to pass the head of the French line, 
keep dead away, and anchor inside. Others followed, 
completely placing their enemies between two fires. 
Sir Samuel Hood anchored his ship (the Zealous) on the 
inner bow of the most weatherly French ship, where he 
poured his fire into, virtually; an unresisting enemy. 
Notwithstanding the great skill manifested by the 
English in their mode of attack, this was the only two- 
decked ship in the English fleet that was able to make 
sail on the following morning. 

Had Nelson led in upon an American fleet, as he did 
upon the French at the Nile, he would have seen reason 
to repent the boldness of the experiment. Something 
like it was attempted on Lake Champlain, though on a 
greatly diminished scale, and the English were virtually 
defeated before they anchored. 

The reader who feels an interest in such subjects, 
will probably detect the secret process of the mind, by 
which some of the foregoing facts have insinuated them- 
selves into this fiction. 


THE TWO ADMIEALS. 


CHAPTER I. 


« Then, if he were my brother’s, 

My brother might not claim him ; nor yonr father, 

Being none of his, refuse him : This concludes — 

My mother’s son did get your father’s heir ; 

Your father’s heir must have your father’s land.” 

Kino John. 

The events we are about to relate, occurred near the middle 
of the last century, previously even to that struggle, which it is 
the fashion of America to call “ the old French War.” The 
opening scene of our tale, however, must be sought in the other 
hemisphere, and on the coast of the mother country. In the 
middle of the eighteenth century, the American colonies were 
models of loyalty ; the very war, to which there has just been al- 
lusion, causing the great expenditure that induced the ministry 
to have recourse to the system of taxation, which terminated 
in the revolution. The family quarrel had not yet commenced. 
Intensely occupied with the conflict, which terminated not 
more gloriously for the British arms, than advantageously for 
the British American possessions, the inhabitants of the prov- 
inces were perhaps never better disposed to the metropolitan 
state, than at the very period of which we are about to write. 
All their early predilections seemed to be gaining strength, 
instead of becoming weaker ; and, as in nature, the calm is 
known to succeed the tempest, the blind attachment of the 


10 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


colony to the parent country, was but a precursor of the aliena- 
tion and violent disunion that were so soon to follow. 

Although the superiority of the English seamen was well 
established, in the conflicts that took place between the years 
1740, and that of 1763, the naval warfare of the period by no 
means possessed the very decided character with which it 
became stamped, a quarter of a century later. In our own 
times, the British marine appears to have improved in quality, 
as its enemies, deteriorated. In the year 1812, however, 
“ Greek met Greek,” when, of a verity, came “ the tug of 
war.” The great change that came over the other navies 
of Europe, was merely a consequence of the revolutions, which 
drove experienced men into exile, and which, by rendering 
armies all-important even to the existence of the different 
states, threw nautical enterprises into the shade, and gave 
an engrossing direction to courage and talent, in another 
quarter. While France was struggling, first for independ- 
ence, and next for the mastery of the continent, a marine was 
a secondary object ; for Vienna, Berlin, and Moscow, were 
as easily entered without, as with its aid. To these, and 
other similar causes, must be referred the explanation of the 
seeming invincibility of the English arms at sea, during the 
late great conflicts of Europe ; an invincibility that was more 
apparent than real, however, as many well-established de- 
feats were, even then, intermingled with her thousand vic- 
tories. 

F rom the time when her numbers could furnish succour of 
this nature, down to the day of separation, America had her 
full share in the exploits of the English marine. The gentry 
of the colonies willingly placed their sons in the royal navy, 
and many a bit of square bunting has been flying at the royal 
mast-heads of King’s ships, in the nineteenth century, as the 
distinguishing symbols of flag-officers, who had to look for 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


11 


their birth-places among ourselves. In the course of a cheq- 
uered life, in which we have been brought in collision with as 
great a diversity of rank, professions, and characters, as often 
falls to the lot of any one individual, we have been thrown into 
contact M’ith no less than eight English admirals, of American 
birth ; while, it has never yet been our good fortune to meet 
with a countrj^man, who has had this rank bestowed on him 
by his own government. On one occasion, an Englishman, 
who had filled the highest civil office connected with the ma- 
rine of his nation, observed to us, that the only man he then 
knew, in the British navy, in whom he should feel an entire 
confidence in entrusting an important command, was one of 
these translated admirals ; and the thought unavoidably 
passed through our mind, that this favourite commander had 
done well in adhering to the conventional, instead of clinging 
to his natural allegiance, inasmuch as he might have toiled for 
half a century, in the service of his native land, and been re- 
warded with a rank that would merely put him on a level 
with a colonel in the army ! How much longer this short- 
sighted policy, and grievous injustice, are to continue, no man 
can say ; but it is safe to believe, that it is to last until some 
legislator of influence learns the simple truth, that the fancied 
reluctance of popular constituencies to do right, oftener exists 
in the apprehensions of their representatives, than in reality. — 
But to our tale. 

England enjoys a wide-spread reputation for her fogs ; but 
little do they know how much a fog may add to natural sce- 
nery, who never witnessed its magical eflects, as it has caused 
a beautiful landscape to coquette with the eye, in playful and 
capricious changes. Our opening scene is in one of these much 
derided fogs ; though, let it always be remembered, it was a 
fog of June, and not of November. On a high headland of the 
coast of Devonshire, stood a little station-vhouse, which had 


12 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


been erected with a view to communicate by signals, with the 
shipping, that sometimes lay at anchor in an adjacent road- 
stead. A little inland, was a village, or hamlet, that it suits 
our purposes to call Wychecombe ; and at no great distance 
from the hamlet itself, surrounded by a small park, stood a 
house of the age of Henry VII., which w'as the abode of Sir 
Wycherly Wychecombe, a baronet of the creation of King 
James I., and the possessor of an improveable estate of some 
three or four thousand a year, which had been transmitted to 
him, through a line of ancestors, that ascended as far back as 
the times of the Plantagenets. Neither Wychecombe, nor the 
headland, nor the anchorage, was a place of note ; for much 
larger and more favoured hamlets, villages, and towns, lay 
scattered about that fine portion of England ; much better 
roadsteads and bays could generally be used by the coming or 
the parting vessel ; and far more important signal-stations 
were to be met with, all along that coast. Nevertheless, the 
roadstead •w'as entered when calms or adverse winds rendered 
it expedient ; the hamlet had its conveniences, and, like most 
English hamlets, its beauties ; and the hall and park w^ere not 
without their claims to state and rural magnificence. A cen- 
tury since, whatever the table of precedency or Blackstone 
may say, an English baronet, particularly one of the date of 
1611, was a much greater personage than he is to-day ; and 
an estate of £4000 a year, more especially if not rack-rented, 
w'as of an extent, and necessarily of a local consequence, equal 
to one of near, or quite three times the same amount, in our 
own day. Sir Wycherly, however, enjoyed an advantage that 
was of still greater importance, and which was more common 
in 1745, than at the present moment. He had no rival within 
fifteen miles of him, and the nearest potentate was a nobleman 
of a rank and fortune that put all competition out of the question ; 
one who dwelt in courts, the favourite of kings ; leaving the 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


13 


baronet, as it might be, in undisturbed enjoyment of all the 
local homage. Sir Wychei’y had once been a member of 
Parliament, and only once. In his youth, he had been a fox- 
hunter ; and a small property in Yorkshire had long been in 
the family, as a sort of foothold on such enjoyments ; but hav- 
ing broken a leg, in one of his leaps, he had taken refuge 
against ennui, by sitting a single session in the House of Com- 
mons, as the member of a borough that lay adjacent to his 
hunting-box. This session sufficed for his whole life ; the 
good baronet having taken the matter so literally, as to make 
it a point to be present at all the sittings ; a sort of tax on his 
time, which, as it came wholly unaccompanied by profit, was 
very likely soon to tire out the patience of an old fox-hunter. 
After resigning his seat, he retired altogether to Wychecombe, 
where he passed the last fifty years, extolling' England, and 
most especially that part of it in which his own estates lay ; in 
abusing the French, with occasional inuendoes against Spain 
and Holland ; and in eating and drinking. He had never trav- 
elled ; for, though Englishmen of his station often did visit 
the continent, a century ago, they oftener did not. It was the 
courtly and the noble, who then chiefly took this means of im- 
proving their minds and manners ; a class, to which a baronet 
by no means necessarily belonged. To conclude. Sir Wycherly 
was now eighty-four ; hale, hearty, and a bachelor. He had 
been born the oldest of five brothers ; the cadets taking refuge, 
as usual, in the inns of court, the church, the army, and the 
navy ; and precisely in the order named. The lawyer had 
actually risen to be a judge, by the style and appellation of 
Baron Wychecombe ; had three illegitimate children by his 
housekeeper, and died, leaving to the eldest thereof, all his 
professional earnings, after buying commissions for the two 
younger in the army. The divine broke his neck, Avhile yet a 
curate, in a fox-hunt ; dying unmarried, and, so far as is gen- 

2 


14 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


erally known, childless. This was Sir Wycherly’s favourite 
brother ; who, he was accustomed to say, “ lost his life, in set- 
ting an example of field-sports to his parishioners. The 
soldier was fairly killed in battle, before he was twenty ; and 
the name of the sailor suddenly disappeared from the list of 
His Majesty’s lieutenants, about half a century before the time 
when our tale opens, by shipwreck. Between the sailor and 
the head of the family, however, there l^d been no great sym- 
pathy ; in consequence, as it was rumour«d, of a certain beau- 
ty’s preference for the latter, though this preference produced 
no suites, inasmuch as the lady died a maid. Mr. Gregory 
Wychecombe, the lieutenant in question, was what is termed a 
“ wild boy and it was the general impression, when his pa- 
rents sent him to sea, that the ocean would now meet with 
its match. The hopes of the family centred in the judge, after 
the death of the curate, and it was a great cause of regret, to 
those who took an interest in its perpetuity and renown, that 
this dignitary did not marry ; since the premature death of all 
the other sons had left the hall, park, and goodly farms, with- 
out any known legal heir. In a word, this branch of the fam- 
ily of Wychecombe would be extinct, when Sir Wycherly died, 
and the entail become useless. Not a female inheritor, even, 
or a male inheritor through females, could be traced ; and it 
had become imperative on Sir Wycherly to make a will, lest 
the property should go ofi^ the Lord knew where ; or, what 
was worse, it should escheat. It is true, Tom Wychecombe, 
the judge’s eldest son, often gave dark hints about a secret, 
and a timely marriage between his parents, a fact that would 
have superseded the necessity for all devises, as the property 
was strictly tied up, so far as the lineal descendants of a cer- 
tain old Sir Wycherly were concerned ; but the present Sir 
Wycherly had seen his brother, in fiis last illness, on which 
occasion, the following conversation had taken place. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


15 


“ And now, brother Thomas,” said the baronet, in a friend- 
ly and nonsoling manner ; “ having, as one may say, prepared 
your soul for heaven, by these prayers and admissions of your 
sins, a word may be prudently said, concerning the affairs of 
this world. You know I am childless — that is to say, — ” 

“ I understand you, Wycherly,” interrupted the dying man, 
“ you’re a bachelor'' 

“ That’s it, Thomas ; and bachelors ought not to have 
children. Had our poor brother James escaped that mishap, 
he might have been sitting at your bed-side at this moment, 
and he could have told us all about it. St. James I used to 
call him ; and well did he deserve the name !” 

“St. James the Least, then, it must have been, Wycherly.” 

“ It’s a dreadful thing to have no heir, Thomas ! Did you 
ever know a case in your practice, in which another estate 
was left so completely without an heir, as this of ours ?” 

“ It does not often happen, brother; heirs are usually more 
abundant than estates.” 

“ So I thought. Will the king get the title as well as the 
estate, brother, if it should escheat, as you call it ?” 

“ Being the fountain of honour, he will be rather indifferent 
about the baronetcy.” 

“ I should care less if it went to the next sovereign, who is 
English born. Wychecombe has always belonged to English- 
men.” 

“ That it has ; and ever will, I trust. You have only to 
select an heir, when I am gone, and by making a will, with 
proper devises, the property will not escheat. Be careful to 
use the full terms of perpetuity.” 

“ Every thing was so comfortable, brother, while you were 
in health,” said Sir Wycherly, fidgeting ; “ you were my natu- 
ral heir — ” 

“ Heir of entail,” interrupted the judge. 


16 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Well, well, heir, at all events ; and that was a prodi- 
gious comfort to a man like myself, who has a sort of religious 
scruples about making a will. I have heard it whispered tliat 
you were actually married to Martha ; in which case, Tom 
might drop into our shoes, so readily, without any more sign- 
ing and sealing.” 

“ Kflius nullius,^' returned the other, too conscientious to 
lend himself to a deception of that nature. 

“ Why, brother, Tom often seems to me to favour such an 
idea, himself.” 

“ No wonder, Wycherly, for the idea would greatly favour 
him. Tom and his brothers are all filii nullorum, God for- 
give me for that same wrong.” 

“ I wonder neither Charles nor Gregory thought of marry- 
ing before they lost their lives for their king and country,” put 
in Sir Wycherly, in an upbraiding -tone, as if he thought his 
penniless brethren had done him an injury in neglecting to 
supply him with an heir, though he had been so forgetful him- 
self of the same great duty. “ I did think of bringing in a bill 
for providing heirs for unmarried persons, without the trouble 
and responsibility of making wdlls.” 

“ That would have been a great improvement on the law 
of descents — I hope you wouldn’t have overlooked the ances- 
tors.” 

“Not I — everybody would have got his rights. They tell 
me poor Charles never spoke after he was shot ; but I dare 
say, did we know the truth, he regretted sincerely that he 
never married.” 

“ There, for once, Wycherly, I think you are likely to be 
wrong. A femme sole without food, is rather a helpless sort 
of a person.” 

“ Well, well, I wish he had married. What would it 
have been to me, had he left a dozen widows?” 


TUE TWO ADMIRALS. 


17 


“ It might have raised some awkward questions as to 
dowry ; and if each left a son, the title and estates would have 
been worse off than they are at present, without widows or 
legitimate children.” 

“ Any thing would be better than having no heir. I be- 
lieve I’m the first baronet of Wychecombe who has been 
obliged to make a will !” 

“ Q,uite likely,” returned the brother, drily ; “ I remember 
to have got nothing from the last one, in that way. Charles 
and Gregory fared no better. Never mind, Wycherly, you be- 
haved like a father to us all.” 

“ I don’t mind signing cheques, in the least ; but wills 
have an irreligious appearance, in my eyes. There are a good 
many Wychecombes, in England; I wonder some of them are 
not of our family ! They tell me a hundredth cousin is just 
as good an heir, as a first-born son.” 

“ Failing nearer of kin. But we have no hundredth cous- 
ins of the whole blood'' 

“ There are the Wychecombes of Surrey, brother Tho- 
mas — ?” 

“ Descended from a bastard of the second baronet, and out 
of the line of descent, altogether.” 

“ But the Wychecombes of Hertfordshire, I have always 
heard were of our family, and legitimate.” 

“ True, as regards matrimony — rather too much of it, by 
the way. They branched off in 1487, long before the crea- 
tion, and have nothing to do with the entail ; the first of their 
line coming from old Sir Michael Wychecombe, Kt. and Sher- 
iff of Devonshire, by his second wife Margery ; while we are 
derived from the same male ancestor, through Wycherly, the 
only son by Joan, the first wife. Wycherly, and Michael, the 
son of Michael and Margery, were of the half-blood, as rc- 

2 * 


18 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


spccts each other, and could not be heirs of blood. What was 
true of the ancestors is true of the descendants.” 

“But we came of the same ancestor, and the estate is far 
older than 1487.” 

“ Q,uite true, brother ; nevertheless, the half-blood can’t 
take ; so says the perfection of human reason.” 

“ I never could understand these niceties of the law,” said 
Sii Wycherly, sighing ; “ but I suppose they are all right. 
There are so many Wychecombes scattered about England, 
that I should think some one among them all might be my 
heir !” 

“ Every man of them bears a bar in his arms, or is of the 
half-blood.” 

“ You are quite sure, brother, that Tom is a filius nul- 
lus?'^ for the baronet had forgotten most of the little Latin he 
ever knew, and translated this legal phrase into “ no son.” 

“ Filius nullius, Sir Wycherly, the son of nobody ; your 
reading would literally make Tom nobody ; whereas, he is 
only the son of nobody.” 

“ But, brother, he is your son, and as like you, as two 
hounds of the same litter.” 

“ I am nullus, in the eye of ^ the law, as regards poor 
Tom ; who, until he marries, and has children of his own, is 
altogether without legal kindred. Nor do I know that legiti- 
macy would make Tom any better ; for be is presuming and 
confident enough for the heir apparent to the throne, as 
it is.” 

“ Well, there’s this young sailor, who has been so much at 
the station lately, since he was left ashore for the cure of his 
w^ounds. ‘Tis a most gallant lad ; and the First Lord has 
sent him a commission, as a reward for his good conduct, in 
cutting out the Frenchman. I look upon him as a credit to 


T H E T WO AD M I H A L S . 


19 


I 


the name ; and I make no question, he is, some way or other, 
of our family.” 

“ Does he claim to be so ?” asked the judge, a little 
quickly, for he distrusted men in general, and thought, from 
all he had heard, that some attempt might have been made to 
practise on his brother’s simplicity. “ I thought you told me 
that he came from the American colonies ?” 

“ So he does ; he’s a native of Virginia, as was his father 
before him.” 

“ A convict, perhaps ; or a servant, quite likely, who has 
found the name of his former master, more to his liking than 
his own. Such things are common, they tell me, beyond 
seas.” 

“ Yes, if he were anything but an American, I might 
wish he were my heir,” returned Sir Wycherly, in a melan- 
choly tone ; “but it would be worse than to let the lands 
escheat, as you call it, to place an American in possession of 
Wychecombe. The manors have always had English owners, 
down to the present moment, thank God !” 

“ Should they have any other, it will be your own fault, 
Wycherly. When I am dead, and that will happen ere many 
weeks, the human being will not be living, who can take that 
property, after your demise, in any other manner than by 
escheat, or by devise. There will then be neither heir of 
entail, nor heir at law ; and you may make whom you please, 
master of Wychecombe, provided he be not an alien.” 

“ Not an American, I suppose, brother; an American is an 
alien, of course.” 

“ Humph ! — why, not in law, whatever he may be accord- 
ing to our English notions. Harkee, brother Wycherly ; I’ve 
never asked you, or wished you to leave the estate to Tom, or 
his younger brothers ; for one, and all, are Jilii nullorum — as 



20 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


I term ’em, though my brother Record will have it, it ought to 
be fdii nullim, as well as filim nullius. Let that be as it 
may ; no bastard should lord it at Wychecombe ; and rather 
than the king should get the lands, to bestow on some favourite; 
I would give it to the half-blood.” 

“Can that be done without making a will, brother 
Thomas ?” 

“ It cannot. Sir Wycherly ; nor with a will, so long as an 
heir of entail can be found.” 

“ Is there no way of making Tom a filius somebody, so 
that he can succeed ?” 

“ Not under our laws. By the civil law, such a thing 
might have been done, and by the Scotch law ; but not under 
the perfection of reason.” 

“ I wish you knew this young Virginian ! The lad bears 
both of my names, Wycherly Wychecombe.” 

“ He is not a jUius Wycherly — is he, baronet ?” 

“ Fie upon thee, brother Thomas ! Do you think I have 
less candour than thyself, that I would not acknowledge my 
own flesh and blood. I never saw the youngster, until within 
the last six months, when he was landed from the roadstead, 
and brought to Wychecombe, to be cured of his wounds ; nor 
ever heard of him before. When they told me his name was 
Wycherly Wychecombe, I could do no less than call and see 
him. The poor fellow lay at death’s door for a fortnight; and 
it was while we had little or no hope of saving him, that I got 
the few family anecdotes from him. Now, that would be good 
evidence in law, I believe, Thomas.” 

“ For certain things, had the lad really died. Surviving, 
he must be heard on his voire dire, and under oath. But 
what was his tale ?” 

“ A very short one. He told me his father was a 
Wycherly Wychecombe, and that his grandfather had been a 


T II E T WO ADMIRALS. 


21 


\ 


Virginia planter. This was all he seemed to know of his 
ancestry.” 

“ And probably all there was of them. My Tom is not 
the only filius nuUius that has been among us, and this grand- 
father, if he has not actually stolen the name, has got it by 
these doubtful means. As for the Wycherly, it should pass for 
nothing. Learning that there is a line of baronets of this 
name, every pretender to the family would be apt to call a son 
Wycherly.” 

“ The line will shortly be ended, brother,” returned Sir 
Wycherly, sighing. “ I wish you might be mistaken ; and, 
after all, Tom shouldn’t prove to be that filius you call 
him.” 

Mr. Baron Wychecombe, as much from esprit de corps as 
from moral principle, was a man of strict integrity, in all 
things that related to meum and tuum. He was particularly 
rigid in his notions concerning the transmission of real estate, 
and the rights of primogeniture. The world had taken little 
interest in the private history of a lawyer, and his sons having 
been born before his elevation to the bench, he passed with the 
public for a widower, with a family of promising boys. Not 
one in a hundred of his acquaintances even, suspected the 
fact ; and nothing would have been easier for him, than to 
have imposed on his brother, by inducing him to make a will 
under some legal mystification or other, and to have caused 
Tom Wychecombe to succeed to the property in question, by 
an indisputable title. There would have been no great diffi- 
culty even, in his son’s assuming and maintaining his right to 
the baronetcy, inasmuch as there would be no competitor, and 
the crown officers were not particularly rigid in inquiring into 
the claims of those who assumed a title that brought wiffi it 
no political privileges. Still, he was far from indulging in any 
such project. To him it appeared that the Wychecombe estate 


22 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


ought to go with the principles that usually governed such 
matters ; and, although he submitted to the dictum of the 
common law, as regarded the provision which excluded the 
half-blood from inheriting, with the deference of an English 
common-law lawyer, he saw and felt, that, failing the direct 
line, Wychecombe ought to revert to the descendants of Sir 
Michael by his second son, for the plain reason that they were 
just as much derived from the person w'ho had acquired the 
estate, as his brother Wycherly and himself. Had there been 
descendants of females, even, to interfere, no such opinion 
w^ould have existed ; but, as between an escheat, or a devise 
in favour of a flius nullius, or of the descendant of a Jilius 
nullius, the half-blood possessed every possible advantage. In 
his legal eyes, legitimacy was everything, although he had 
not hesitated to be the means of bringing into the world seven 
illegitimate children, that being the precise number Martha 
had the credit of having borne him, though three only sur- 
vived. After reflecting a moment, therefore, he turned to the 
baronet, and addressed him more seriously than he had yet 
done, in the present dialogue ; first taking a draught of cordial 
to give him strength for the occasion. 

“ Listen to me, brother Wycherly,” said the judge, with 
a gravity that at once caught the attention of the other. 
“ You know something of the family history, and I need do no 
more than allude to it. Our ancestors were the knightly pos- 
sessors of Wychecombe, centuries before King James estab- 
lished the rank of baronet. When our great-grandfather. Sir 
Wycherly, accepted the patent of 1611, he scarcely did him- 
self honour ; for, by aspiring higher, he might have got a peer- 
age. However, a baronet he became, and for the first time 
since Wychecombe was Wychecombe, the estate was entailed, 
to do credit to the new rank. Now, the first Sir Wycherly had 
three sons, and no daughter. Each of these sons succeeded ; 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


23 

the two eldest as bachelors, and the youngest was our grand- 
father. Sir Thomas, the fourth baronet, left an only child, 
Wycherly, our father. Sir Wycherly, our father, had five sons, 
Wycherly his successor, yourself, and the sixth baronet ; my- 
self; James; Charles; and Gregory. James broke his neck 
at your side. The two last lost their lives in the king’s service, 
unmarried ; and neither you, nor I, have entered into the holy 
state of matrimony. I cannot survive a month, and the hopes 
of perpetuating the direct line of the family, rests with your- 
self. This accounts for all the descendants of Sir Wycherly, 
the first baronet ; and it also settles the question of heirs of 
entail, of whom there are none after myself. To go back be- 
yond the time of King James I. : Twice did the elder lines of 
the W’ychecombes fail, between the reign of King Richard II. 
and King Henry VII., when Sir Michael succeeded. Now, in 
each of these cases, the law disposed of the succession ; the 
youngest branches of the family, in both instances, getting the 
estate. It follows that agreeably to legal decisions had at the 
time, when the facts must have been known, that the Wyche- 
combes were reduced to these younger lines. Sir Michael had 
two wives. From the first %oe are derived — from the last, the 
Wychecombes of Hertfordshire — since known as baronets of 
that county, by the style and title of Sir Reginald Wyche- 
combe of Wychecombe-Regis, Herts.” 

“ The present Sir Reginald can have no claim, being of 
the half-blood,” put in Sir Wycherly, with a brevity of man- 
ner that denoted feeling. “ The half-blood is as bad as a 
nullius, as you call Tom.” 

“ Not quite. A person of the half-blood may be as legiti- 
mate as the king’s majesty ; whereas, a nullius is of 7io blood. 
Now, suppose for a moment. Sir Wycherly, that you had been 
a son by a first wife, and I had been a son by a second — 
would there have been no relationship between us ?” 


24 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ What a question, Tom, to put to your own brother !” 

But I should not be your own brother, my good sir ; only 
your brother ; of the half^ and not of the whole blood.” 

“ What of that — what of that ? — your father would have 
been my father — we would have had the same name — the 
same family history — the same family feelings — poh ! poh ! — 
we should have been both Wychecombes, exactly as we are 
to-day.” 

“ Q,uite true, and yet I could not have been your heir, nor 
you, mine. The estate would escheat to the king, Hanoverian 
or Scotchman, before it came to me. Indeed, to me it could 
never come.” 

“ Thomas, you are trifling with my ignorance, and making 
matters worse than they really are. Certainly, as long as you 
lived, you would be mij heir !” 

“Very true, as to the £20,000 in the funds, but not as to 
the baronetcy and Wychecombe. So far as the two last are 
concerned, I am heir of blood, and of entail, of the body of Sir 
Wycherly Wychecombe, the first baronet, and the maker of the 
entail.” 

“ Had there been no entail, and had I died a child, who 
would have succeeded our father, supposing there had been 
two mothers ?” 

“ I, as the. next surviving son.” 

“ There ! — I knew it must be so !” exclaimed Sir Wych- 
erly, in triumph ; “ and all this time you have been joking 
with me !” 

“Not so fast, brother of mine — not so fast. I should be 
of the whole blood, as respected our father, and all the Wyche- 
combes that have gone before him ; but of the half-\Aood, as 
respected you. From our father I might have taken, as his 
heir-at-law : but from you, never, having been of the half- 
blood.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


25 


“ I would have made a will, in that case, Thomas, and left 
you every farthing,” said Sir Wycherly, with feeling. 

“ That is just what I wish you to do with Sir Reginald 
Wychecombe. You must take him ; a Jilius nullius, in the 
person of my son Tom ; a stranger ; or let the property es- 
cheat ; for, we are so peculiarly placed as not to have a known 
relative, by either the male or female lines ; the maternal an- 
cestors being just as barren of heirs as the paternal. Our 
good mother was the natural daughter of the third Earl of 
Prolific ; our grandmother was the last of her race, so far as 
human ken can discover ; our great-grandmother is said to 
have had semi-royal blood in her veins, without the aid of the 
church, and beyond that it would be hopeless to attempt tra- 
cing consanguinity on that side of the house. No, Wycherly ; 
it is Sir Beginald who has the best right to the land ; Tom, or 
one of his brothers, an utter stranger, or His Majesty, follow. 
Remember that estates of £4000 a year, don’t often escheat, 
now-a-days.” 

“ If you’ll draw up a will, brother. I’ll leave it all to Tom,” 
cried the baronet, with sudden energy. “ Nothing need be 
said about the nullius ; and when I’m gone, he’ll step quietly 
into my place.” 

Nature triumphed a moment in the bosom of the father ; 
; but habit, and the stern sense of right, soon overcame the feel- 
I ing. Perhaps certain doubts, and a knowledge of his son’s 
f real character, contributed their share towards the reply. 

“ It ought not to be. Sir Wycherly,” returned the judge, 

I musing, “ Tom has no right to Wychecombe, and Sir Reginald 
I has the best moral right possible, though the law cuts him ofi'. 
i Had Sir Michael made the entail, instead of our great-grand- 
[ father, he would have come in, as a matter of course.” 

I never liked Sir Reginald Wychecombe,’ said the 
baronet, stubbornly. 

8 


26 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ What of that ? — He will not trouble you while living, 
and when dead it will be all the same. Come — come — I will 
draw the will myself, leaving blanks for the name ; and when 
it is once done, you will sign it, cheerfully. It is the last legal 
act I shall ever perform, and it will be a suitable one, death 
being constantly before me.” 

This ended the dialogue. The will was drawn according 
to promise ; Sir Wycherly took it to his room to read, carefully 
inserted the name of Tom Wychecombe in all the blank 
spaces, brought it back, duly executed the instrument in his 
brother’s presence, and then gave the paper to his nephew to 
preserve, with a strong injunction on him to keep the secret, 
until the instrument should have force by his own death. 
Mr. Baron Wychecombe died in six weeks, and the baronet re- 
turned to his residence, a sincere mourner for the loss of an 
only brother. A more unfortunate selection of an heir could 
not have been made, as Tom Wychecombe was, in reality, the 
son of a barrister in the Temple ; the fancied likeness to the 
reputed father existing only in the imagination of his credulous 
uncle. 


CHAPTER IT. 


How fearful 

And dizzy ’tis, to cast one’s eyes so low ! 

The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, 

Show scarce so gross as beetles ! Half-way down 
Hangs one that gathers samphire ! dreadful trade !” 

Kino Lear 


This digression on the family of Wychecomhe has led us fai 
from the signal-station, the head-land, and the fog, with which 
the tale opened. The little dwelling connected with the sta- 
tion stood at a short distance from the staffs sheltered, by the 
formation of the ground, from the bleak winds of the channel, 
and fairly embowered in shrubs and flowers. It was a humble 
cottage, that had been ornamented with more taste than was 
usual in England at. that day. Its whitened walls, thatched 
roof, picketed garden, and trellised porch, bespoke care, and a 
mental improvement in the inmates, that were scarcely to be 
expected in persons so humbly employed as the keeper of the 
signal-staff, and his family. All near the house, too, was in 
the same excellent condition ; for while the headland itself lay 
in common, this portion of it was enclosed in two or three 
pretty little fields, that were grazed by a single horse, and a 
couple of cows. There were no hedges, however, the thorn 
not growing willingly in a situation so exposed ; but the fields 
were divided by fences, neatly enough made of wood, that de- 
clared its own origin, having in fact been part of the timbers 
and planks of a wreck. As the whole was whitewashed, it 
had a rustic, and in a climate where the sun is seldom op- 
pressive, by no means a disagreeable appearance. 


28 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


The scene with which we desire to commence the tale, 
opens about seven o’clock on a July morning. On a bench at 
the foot of the signal-staff, was seated one of a frame that was 
naturally large and robust, but which was sensibly beginning 
to give way, either by age or disease A glance at the red, 
bloated face, would sulHce to tell a medical man, that the 
habits had more to do with the growing failure of the system, 
than any natural derangement of the physical organs. The 
face, too, was singularly manly, and had once been handsome, 
even ; nay, it was not altogether without claims to be so con- 
sidered still ; though intemperance was making sad inroads on 
its comeliness. This person was about fifty years old, and his 
air, as well as his attire, denoted a mariner ; not a common 
seaman, nor yet altogether an officer ; but one of those of a 
middle station, who in navies used to form a class by them- 
selves ; being of a rank that entitled them to the honours of the 
quarter-deck, though out of the regular line of promotion. In 
a word, he wore the unpretending uniform of a master. A 
century ago, the dress of the English naval officer was ex- 
ceedingly simple, though more appropriate to the profession 
perhaps, than the more showy attire that has since been in- 
troduced. Epaulettes were not used by any, and the anchor 
button, with the tint that is called navy blue, and which is 
meant to represent the deep hue of the ocean, with white fa- 
cings, composed the principal peculiarities of the dress. The 
person introduced to the reader, whose name was Dutton, and 
who was simply the officer in charge of the signal-station, had 
a certain neatness about his well-worn uniform, his linen, and 
all of his attire, which showed that some person more inter- 
ested in sueh matters than one of his habits was likely to be, 
had the care of his wardrobe. In this respect, indeed, his 
appearance was unexceptionable ; and there was an air about 
the whole man which showed that nature, if not education, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


29 


had intended him for something far better than the being he 
actually was. 

Dutton was waiting, at that early hour, to ascertain, as 
the veil of mist was raised from the face of the sea, whether a 
sail might be in sight, that required of him the execution of 
any of his simple functions. That some one was near by, on 
the head-land, too, was quite evident, by the occasional inter- 
change of speech ; though no person but himself was visible. 
The direction of the sounds would seem to indicate that a 
man was actually over the brow of the cliff, perhaps a hun- 
dred feet removed from the seat occupied by the master. 

“ Recollect the sailor’s maxim, Mr. Wychecombe,” called 
out Dutton, in a warning voice ; “ one hand for the king, and 
the other for self! Those cliffs are ticklish places ; and really 
it does seem a little unnatural that a sea-faring person like 
yourself, should have so great a passion for flowers, as to risk 
his neck in order to make a posy !” 

“Never fear for me, Mr. Dutton,” answered a full, manly 
voice, that one could have sworn issued from the chest of 
youth ; “ never fear for me ; we sailors are used to hanging in 
the air.” 

“ Ay, with good three-stranded ropes to hold on by, young 
gentleman. Now His Majesty’s government has just made 
you an officer, there is a sort of obligation to take care of your 
life, in order that it may be used, and, at need, given away, in 
his service.” 

“ (oluite true — quite true, Mr. Dutton — so true, I wonder 
you think it necessary to remind me of it. I am very grateful 
to His Majesty’s government, and — ” 

While speaking, the voice seemed to descend, getting at 
each instant less and less distinct, until, in the end, it became 
quite inaudible. Dutton looked uneasy, for at that instant a 
noise was heard, and then it was quite clear some heavy ob- 

8 * 


f 


30 T H E T W O A D M I R A L 8 

ject was falling down the face of the cliff. Now it was that 
the mariner felt the want of good nerves, and experienced the 
sense of humiliation which accompanied the consciousness of 
having destroyed them by his excesses. He trembled in every 
limb, and, for the moment, was actually unable to rise. A 
light step at his side, however, drew a glance in that direction, 
and his eye fell on the form of a lovely girl of nineteen, his 
own daughter, Mildred. 

“ I heard you calling to some one, father,” said the latter, 
looking wistfully, but distrustfully at her parent, as if wonder- 
ing at his yielding to his infirmity so early in the day ; “ can I 
be of service to you ?” 

“ Poor Wychecombe !” exclaimed Dutton. “ He went 
over the cliff in search of a nosegay to offer to yourself, and — 
and — I fear — greatly fear — ” 

“ What, father ?” demanded Mildred, in a voice of horror, 
the rich color disappearing from a face which it left of the hue 
of death. “ No — no — no — he cannot have fallen.” 

Dutton bent his head down, drew a long breath, and then 
seemed to gain more command of his nerves. He was about 
to rise, when the sound of a horse’s feet was heard, and then 
Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, mounted on a quiet pony, rode 
slowly up to the signal-staff. It was a common thing for the 
baronet to appear on the cliffs early in the morning, but it was 
not usual for him to come unattended. The instant her eyes 
fell on the fine form of the venerable old man, Mildred, who 
seemed to know him well, and to use the familiarity of one 
confident of being a favourite, exclaimed — 

“ Oh ! Sir Wycherly, how fortunate — where is Richard ?” 

“ Good morrow, my pretty Milly,” answered the baronet, 
cheerfully ; “ fortunate or not, here I am, and not a bit flat- 
tered that your first question should be after the groom, in- 
stead of his master I have sent Dick on a message to the 


T H E T W O A D xM I K A L S . 31 

vicar’s. Now my poor brother, the judge, is dead and gone, I 
find Mr. Rotherham more and more necessary to me.” 

“ Oh ! dear Sir Wycherly — Mr. Wychecombe — Lieutenant 
Wychecombe, I mean — the young officer frpm Virginia — he 
who was so desperately wounded — in whose recovery we all 
took so deep an interest — ” 

“ Well — what of him, child ? — you surely do not mean to 
put him on a level with Mr. Rotherham, in the way of reli- 
gious consolation — and, as for anything else, there is no con- 
sanguinity between the Wychecombes of Virginia and my 
family. He may be a filius nullius of the Wychecombes of 
Wychecombe-Regis, Herts, but has no connection with those 
of Wychecombe-Hall, Devonshire.” 

“There — there — the cliff! — the cliff’!” added Mildred, 
unable, for the momemt, to be more explicit. 

As the girl pointed towards the precipice, and looked the 
very image of horror, the good-hearted old baronet began to 
get some glimpses of the truth ; and, by means of a few words 
with Dutton, soon knew quite as much as his two companions. 
Descending from his pony with surprising activity for one of 
his years. Sir Wycherly was soon on his feet, and a sort of 
confused consultation between the three succeeded. Neither 
liked to approach the cliff, which was nearly perpendicular at 
the extremity of the head-land, and was always a trial to the 
nerves of those who shrunk from standing on the verge of 
precipices. They*'stood like persons paralyzed, until Dutton, 
ashamed of his weakness, and recalling the thousand lessons in 
coolness and courage he had received in his own manly pro- 
fession, made a movement towards advancing to the edge of 
the cliff in order to ascertain the real state of the case. The 
blood returned to the cheeks of Mildred, too, and she again 
found a portion of her natural spirit raising her courage. 

“ Stop, father,” she said, hastily ; “ you are infirm, and 


32 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


are in a tremour at this moment. My head is steadier — let 
me go to the verge of the hill, and learn what has hap- 
pened.” 

This was uttered with a forced calmness that deceived her 
auditors, both of whom, the one from age, and the other from 
shattered nerves, were certainly in no condition to assume the 
same office. It required the all-seeing eye, which alone can 
scan the heart, to read all the agonized suspense with which 
that young and beautiful creature approached the spot, where 
she might command a view of the whole of the side of the 
fearful declivity, from its giddy summit to the base, wffiere it 
was washed by the sea. The latter, indeed, could not liter- 
ally be seen from above, the waves having so far undermined 
the cliff, as to leave a projection that concealed the point 
where the rocks and the water came absolutely in contact ; 
the upper portion of the w'eather-w'orn rocks falling a little 
inwards, so as to leave a ragged surface that w^as sufficiently 
broken to contain patches of earth, and verdure, sprinkled with 
the flowers peculiar to such an exposure. The fog, also, in- 
tercepted the sight, giving to the descent the appearance of a 
fathomless abyss. Had the life of the most indifferent person 
been in jeopardy, under the circumstances named, Mildred 
would have been filled with deep awe ; but a gush of tender 
sensations, which had hitherto been pent up in the sacred pri- 
vacy of her virgin affections, struggled with natural horror, as 
she trod lightly on the very verge of the declivity, and cast a 
timid but eager glance beneath. Then she recoiled a step, 
raised her hands in alarm, and hid her face, as if to shut out 
some frightful spectacle. 

By this time, Dutton’s practical knowledge and recollec- 
tion had returned. As is common with seamen, whose minds 
contain vivid pictures of the intricate tracery of their vessel’s 
rigging in the darkest nights, his thoughts had flashed athwart 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


33 


all the probable circumstances, and presented a just imago of 
the facts. 

“ The boy could not be seen had he absolutely fallen, and 
were there no fog ; for the cliff tumbles home. Sir Wycherly,” 
he said, eagerly, unconsciously using a familiar nautical 
phrase to express his meaning. “ He must be clinging to the 
side of the precipice, and that, too, above the swell of the 
rocks.” 

Stimulated by a common feeling, the two men now ad- 
vanced hastily to the brow of the hill, and there, indeed, as with 
Mildred herself, a single look sufficed to tell them the whole 
truth. Young Wychecombe, in leaning forward to pluck a 
flower, had pressed so hard upon the bit of rock on which a 
foot rested, as to cause it to break, thereby losing his balance. 
A presence of mind that amounted almost to inspiration, and a 
high resolution, alone saved him from being dashed to pieces. 
Perceiving the rock to give way, he threw himself forward, 
and alighted on a narrow shelf, a few feet beneath the place 
where he had just stood, and at least ten feet removed from it, 
laterally. The shelf on which he alighted was ragged, and 
but two or three feet wide. It would have afforded only a 
check to his fall, had there not fortunately been some shrubs 
among the rocks above it. By these shrubs the young man 
caught, actually swinging off in the air, under the impetus of 
his leap. Happily, the shrubs were too well rooted to give 
way ; and, swinging himself round, with the address of a 
sailor, the youthful lieutenant was immediately on his feet, in 
comparative safety. The silence that succeeded was the con- 
sequence of the shock he felt, in finding him so suddenly thrown 
into this perilous situation. The summit of the cliff was now 
about six fathoms above his head and the shelf on which he 
stood, impended over a portion of the cliff that was absolutely 
perpendicular, and which might be said to be out of the line of 


34 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


those projections along which he had so lately been idly gath- 
ering flowers. It was physically impossible for any human 
being to extricate himself from such a situation, without assist- 
ance. This Wychecomhe understood at a glance, and he had 
passed the few minutes that intervened between his fall and 
the appearaTice of the party above him, in devising the means 
necessary to his liberation. As it w^as, few men, unaccus- 
tomed to the giddy elevations of the mast, could have mustered 
a sufficient command of nerve to maintain a position on the ledge 
where he stood. Even he could not have continued there, 
without steadying his form by the aid of the bushes. 

As soon as the baronet and Dutton got a glimpse of the 
perilous position of young 'Wychecomhe, each recoiled in horror 
from the sight, as if fearful of being precipitated on top of him. 
Both, then, actually lay down on the grass, and approached 
the edge of the cliff again, in that humble attitude, even 
trembling as they lay at length, with their chins projecting 
over the rocks, staring downwards at the victim. The young 
man could see nothing of all this ; for, as he stood with his 
back against the cliff, he had not room to turn, with safety, or 
even to look upwards. Mildred, however, seemed to lose all 
sense of self and of danger, in view of the extremity in which the 
youth beneath was placed. She stood on the very verge of the 
precipice, and looked down with steadiness and impunity that 
would have been utterly impossible for her to attain under less 
exciting circumstances ; even allowing the young man to catch a 
glimpse of her rich locks, as they hung about her beautiful face. 

“For God’s sake, Mildred,” called out the youth, “ keep fur- 
ther from the cliff — I see you, and we can now hear each 
other without so much risk.” 

“What can we do to rescue you, Wychecomhe ?” eagerly 
asked the girl. “ Tell me, I entreat you ; for Sir Wycherly 
and my father are both unnerved !” 


THE TWO admirals. 


35 


“ Blessed creature ! and you are mindful of my danger ! 
But, be not uneasy, Mildred ; do as I tell you, and all will yet 
be well. I hope you hear and understand what I say, dearest 
girl?” 

“ Perfectly,” returned Mildred, nearly choked by the effort 
to be calm. “ I hear every syllable — speak on.” 

“ Go you then to the signal-halyards— let one end ffy loose, 
and pull upon the other, until the whole line has come down 
— when that is done, return here, and I will tell you more — 
but, for heaven’s sake, keep farther from the cliff.” 

The thought that the rope, small and frail as it seemed, 
might be of use, flashed on the brain of the girl ; and in a 
moment she was at the staff. Time and again, when liquor 
incapacitated her father to perform his duty, had Mildred bent- 
on, and hoisted the signals for him ; and thus, happily, she 
was expert in the use of the halyards. In a minute she had 
unrove them, and the long line lay in a little pile at her feet. 

“’Tis done, Wycherly,” she said, again looking over the 
cliff ; “ shall I throw you down one end of the rope ? — but, 
alas ! I have not strength to raise you ; and Sir Wycherly and 
father|^eem unable to assist me !” 

“ Do not hurry yourself, Mildred, and all will be well. Go, 
and put one end of the line around the signal-staff", then put 
the two ends together, tie them in a knot, and drop them down 
over my head. Be careful not to come too near the cliff, for — ” 

The last injunction was useless, Mildred having flown to 
execute her commission. Her quick mind readily compre- 
hended what was expected of her, and her nimble fingers soon 
performed their task. Tying a knot in the ends of the line, she 
did as desired, and the small rope was soon dangling within 
reach of Wychecombe’s arm. It is not easy to make a lands- 
man understand the confidence which a sailor feels in a rope. 
Place but a frail and rotten piece of twisted hemp in his hand, 


3G 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


and he will risk his person in situations from which he would 
otherwise recoil in dread. Accustomed to hang suspended in 
the air, with ropes only for his foothold, or with ropes to grasp 
with his hand, his eye gets an intuitive knowledge of what will 
sustain him, and he unhesitatingly trusts his person to a few 
seemingly slight strands, that, to one unpractised, appear 
wholly unworthy of his confidence. Signal-halyards are ropes 
smaller than the little finger of a man of any size ; but they 
are usually made with care, and every rope-yarn tells. Wyche- 
combe, too, was aware that these particular halyards were 
new, for he had assisted in reeving them himself, only the 

week before. It was owing to this circumstance that they were 

long enough to reach him ; a large allowance for wear and 

tear having been made in cutting them from the coil. As 

it was, the ends dropped some twenty feet below the ledge on 
which he stood. 

“All safe, now, Mildred !” cried the young man, in a 
voice of exultation the moment his hand caught the two ends 
of the line, which he immediately passed around his body, 
beneath the arms, as a precaution against accidents. “ All 
safe, now, dearest girl ; have no further concern about me.’' 

Mildred drew back, foT worlds could not have tempted 
her to witness the desperate effort that she knew must fol- 
low. By this time. Sir Wycherly, who had been an inter- 
ested witness of all that passed, found his voice, and assumed 
the office of director. 

“ Stop, my young namesake,” he eagerly cried, when he 
found that the sailor was about to make an effort to drag his 
own body up the cliff; “ stop ; that will never do; let Dut- 
ton and me do that much for you, at least. We have seen 
all that has passed, and are now able to do somethino^ ” 

“No— no, Sir Wycherly— on no account touch the hal- 
yards. By hauling them over the top of the rocks you will 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


37 


probably cut them, or part them, ard then Tm lost, with- 
out hope !” 

“Oh! Sir Wycherly,” said Mildred, earnestly, clasping 
her hands together, as if to enforce the request with prayer ; 
“ do not — do not touch the line.” 

“ We had better let the lad manage the matter in his 
own way,” put in Dutton ; “ he is active, resolute, and a sea- 
man, and will do better for himself than I fear we can do 
for him. He has got a turn round his body, and is tolerably 
safe against any slip, or mishap.” 

As the words were uttered, the whole three drew back 
a short distance and watched the result, in intense anxiety. 
Dutton, however, so far recollected himself, as to take an 
end of the old halyards, which were kept in a chest at the 
foot of the staff, and to make an attempt to stopper together 
the two parts of the little rope on which the youth depended, 
for should one of the parts of it break, without this precau- 
tion, there was nothing to prevent the halyards from running 
round the staff, and destroying the hold. The size of the 
halyards rendered this expedient very difficult of attainment, 
but enough was done to give the arrangement a little more 
of the air of security. All this time young Wychecombe was 
making his own preparations on the ledge, and quite out of 
view ; but the tension on the halyards soon announced thai 
his weight was now pendent from them. Mildred’s heart 
seemed ready to leap from her mouth, as she noted each jerk 
on the lines ; and her father watched every new pull as if 
he expected the next moment would produce the final catas- 
trophe. It required a prodigious effort in the young man to 
raise his own weight for such a distance, by lines so small. 
Had the rope been of any size, the achievement would have 
been trifling for one of the frame and habits of the sailor, 
more especially as he could slightly avail himself of his feet, 

4 


38 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


by pressing them against the rocks ; but, as it w^as, he felt 
as if he w^ere dragging the mountain up after him. At length, 
his head appeared a few inches above the rocks, but wdth his 
feet pressed against the cliff, and his body inclining outward, 
at an angle of forty-five degrees. 

“ Help him — help him, father !” exclaimed Mildred, cover- 
ing her face with her hands, to exclude the sight of Wyche- 
combe’s desperate struggles. “ If he fall now, he will be 
destroyed. Oh ! save him, save him. Sir Wycherly !” 

But neither of those to whom she appealed, could be of any 
use. The nervous trembling again came over the father ; and 
as for the baronet, age and inexperience rendered him helpless. 

“ Have you no rope, Mr. Dutton, to throw over my shoul- 
ders,” cried Wychecombe, suspending his exertions in pure 
exhaustion, still keeping all he had gained, with his head pro- 
jecting outward, over the abyss beneath, and his face turned 
towards heaven. “ Throw a rope over my shoulders, and drag 
my body in to the cliff.” 

Dutton showed an eager desire to comply, but his nerves 
had not yet been excited by the usual potations, and his hands 
shook in a way to render it questionable whether he could per- 
form even this simple service. But for his daughter, indeed, he 
would hardly have set about it intelligently. Mildred, accus- 
tomed to using the signal-halyards, procured the old line, and 
handed it to her father, who discovered some of his professional 
knowledge in his manner of using it. Doubling the halyards 
twice, he threw the bight over Wychecombe’s shoulders, and 
aided by Mildred, endeavoured to draw the body of the young 
man upwards and towards the cliff. But their united strength 
was unequal to the task, and wearied with holding on, and, 
indeed, unable to support his own weight any longer by so 
small a rope, Wychecombe felt compelled to suffer his feet to 
drop beneath him, and slid down again upon the ledge. Here, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


39 


even his vigorous frame shook with its prodigious exertions ; 
and he was compelled to seat himself on the shelf, and rest 
with his back against the ciidj to recover his self-command and 
strength. Mildred uttered a faint shriek as he disappeared, 
but was too much horror-stricken to approach the verge of the 
precipice to ascertain his fate. 

“ Be composed, Milly,” said her father, “ he is safe, as you 
may see by the halyards ; and to say the truth, the stuff holds 
on well. ISo long as the line proves true, the boy can’t fall ; 
he has taken a double turn with the end of it round his body. 
Make your mind easy, girl, for I feel better now, and see my 
way clear. Don’t be uneasy. Sir Wycherly ; we’ll have the 
lad safe on terra finna again, in ten minutes. I scarce know 
what has come over me, this morning ; but I’ve not had the 
command of my limbs as in common. It cannot be fright, for 
I’ve seen too many men in danger to be disabled by that; and 
I think, Milly, it must be the rheumatism, of which I’ve so 
often spoken, and which I’ve inherited from my poor mother, 
dear old soul. Do you know. Sir Wycherly, that rheumatism 
can be inherited like gout ?” 

“ I dare say it may — I dare say it may, Dutton — but never 
mind the disease, now ; get my young namesake back here on 
the grass, and I will hear all about it. I w'ould give the world 
that I had not sent Dick to Mr. Rotherham’s this morning. 
Can’t we contrive to make the pony pull the boy up?” 

“ The traces are hardly strong enough for such work. Sir 
Wycherly. Have a little patience, and I will manage the 
whole thing, ‘ship-shape, and Brister fashion,’ as we say at sea. 
Halloo there, Master Wychecombe — answer my hail, and I will 
soon get you into deep water.” 

“ I’m safe on the ledge,” returned the voice of Wychecombe, 
from below ; “I wish you would look to the signal-halyards, 
and see they do not chafe against the rocks, Mr. Dutton ” 


40 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ All right, sir ; all right. Slack up, if you please, and let 
me have all the line you can, without casting off from your 
body. Keep fast the end for fear of accidents.” 

In an instant the halyards slackened, and Dutton, who by 
this time had gained his self-command, though still weak and 
unnerved by the habits of the last fifteen years, forced the bight 
along the edge of the cliff, until he had brought it over a pro- 
jection of the rocks, where it fastened itself This arrange- 
ment caused the line to lead down to the part of the cliffs from 
which the young man had fallen, and where it was by no 
means difficult for a steady head and active limbs to move 
about and pluck flowers. It consequently remained for Wyche- 
combe merely to regain a footing on that part of the hill-side, 
to ascend to the summit without difficulty. It is true he was 
now below the point from which he had fallen, but by swing- 
ing himself off laterally, or even by springing, aided by the line, 
it was not a difficult achievement to reach it, and he no sooner 
understood the nature of the change that had been made, than 
he set about attempting it. The confident manner of Dutton 
encouraged both the baronet and Mildred, and they drew to 
the cliff again ; standing near the verge, though on the part 
where the rocks might be descended, with less apprehension 
of consequences. 

As soon as Wychecombe had made all his preparations, he 
stood on the end of the ledge, tightened the line, looked care- 
fully for a foothold on the other side of the chasm, and made 
his leap. As a matter of course, the body of the young man 
swung readily across the space, until the line became perpen- 
dicular, and then he found a surface so broken, as to render 
his ascent by no means difficult, aided as he was by the hal- 
yards. Scrambling upwards, he soon rejected the aid of the 
line, and sprang upon the head-land. At the same instant, 
Mildred fell senseless on the grass. 


CHAPTER III. 


I want a hero : — an uncommon want, 

When every year and month send forth a new one ; 

’Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, 

The age discovers he is not the true one ; — ” 

Byron. 

In consequence of the unsteadiness of the father’s nerves, 
the duty of raising Mildred in his arms, and of carrying her to 
the cottage, devolved on the young man. This he did with a 
readiness and concern Avhich proved how deep an interest he 
took in her situation, and with a power of arm which showed 
that his strength was increased rather than lessened by the 
condition into which she had fallen. So rapid was his move- 
ment, that no one saw the kiss he impressed on the palid cheek 
of the sweet girl, or the tender pressure with which he grasped 
the lifeless form. By the time he reached the door, the motion 
and air had begun to revive her, and Wychecombe committed 
her to the care of her alarmed mother, with a few hurried 
words of explanation. He did not leave the house, however, 
for a quarter of an hour, except to^call out to Dutton that Mil- 
dred was reviving, and that he need be under no uneasiness on 
her account. Why he remained so long, we leave the reader 
to imagine, for tho girl had been immediately taken to her own 
little chamber, and he saw her no more for several hours. 

When our young sailor came out upon the head-land again, 
he found the party near the flag-staff increased to four. Dick, 
the groom, had returned from his errand, and Tom Wyche- 
combe, the intended heir of the baronet, was also there, in 
mourning for his reputed father, the judge. This young man 

4 * 


42 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


had become a frequent visiter to the station, of late, aft’ecting 
to imbibe his uncle’s taste for sea air, and a view of the ocean. 
There had been several meetings between himself and his 
namesake, and each interview was becoming less amicable 
than the preceding, for a reason that was sufficiently known to 
the parties. When they met on the present occasion, therefore, 
the bows they exchanged were haughty and distant, and the 
glances cast at each other might have been termed hostile, 
were it not that a sinister irony was blended with that of Tom 
Wychecombe. Still, the feelings that were uppermost did not 
prevent the latter from speaking in an apparently friendly 
manner. 

“ They tell me, Mr. Wychecombe,” observed the judge’s 
heir, (for this Tom Wychecombe might legally claim to be ;) 
“ they tell me, Mr. Wychecombe, that you have been taking 
a lesson in your trade this morning, by swinging over the cliffs 
at the end of a rope ? Now, that is an exploit, more to the 
taste of an American than to that of an Englishman, I should 
think. But, 1 dare say one is compelled to do many things in 
the colonies, that we never dream of at home.” 

This was said with seeming indifference, though with great 
art. Sir Wycherly’s principal weakness was an overweenmg 
and an ignorant admiration of his own country, and all it con- 
tained. He was also strongly addicted to that feeling of con- 
tempt for the dependencies of the empire, which seems to be 
inseparable from the political connection between the people 
of the metropolitan country and their colonies. There must be 
entire equality, for perfect respect, in any situation in life ; 
and, as a rule, men always appropriate to their own shares, 
any admitted superiority that may happen to exist on the part 
of the communities to which they belong. It is on this princi- 
ple, that the tenant of a cock-loft in Paris or London, is so apt 
to feel a high claim to superiority over the occupant of a com- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


43 


fortable abode in a village. As between England and her 
North American colonies in particular, this feeling was stronger 
than is the case usually, on account of the early democratical 
tendencies of the latter ; not, that these tendencies had already 
become the subject of political jealousies, but that they left 
social impressions, which were singularly adapted to bringing 
the colonists into contempt among a people predominant for 
their own factitious habits, and who are so strongly inclined to 
view everything, even to principles, through the medium of 
arbitrary, conventional customs. It must be confessed that 
the Americans, in the middle of the eighteenth century, were 
an exceedingly provincial, and in many particulars a narrow- 
minded people, as well in their opinions as in their habits ; nor 
is the reproach altogether removed at the present day ; but 
the country from which they are derived had not then made 
the vast strides in civilization, for which it has latterly become 
so distinguished. The indiflerence, too, with which all Europe 
regarded the w'hole American continent, and to which En- 
gland, herself, though she possessed so large a stake on this 
side of the Atlantic, formed no material exception, constantly 
led that quarter of the world into profound mistakes in all its 
reasoning that was connected with this quarter of the world, 
and aided in producing the state of feeling to which we have 
alluded. Sir Wycherly felt and reasoned on the subject of 
America much as the great bulk of his countrymen felt and 
reasoned in 1745 ; the exceptions existing only among the 
enlightened, and those whose particular duties rendered more 
correct knowledge necessary, and not always among them. It 
is said that the English minister conceived the idea of taxing 
America, from the circumstance of seeing a wealthy Virginian 
lose a large sum at play, a sort of argumentum ad Jiominem 
that brought with it a very dangerous conclusion to apply to 
the sort of people with whom he had to deal. Let this be as 


44 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


it might, there is no more question, that at the period of our 
tale, the profoundest ignorance concerning America existed 
generally in the mother country, than there is that the pro- 
foundest respect existed in America for nearly every thing 
English. Truth compels us to add, that in despite of all that 
has passed, the cis-atlantic portion of the weakness has longest 
endured the assaults of time and of an increased intercourse. 

Young Wycherly, as is ever the case, was keenly alive to 
any insinuations that might be supposed to reflect on the 
portion of the empire of which he was a native. He con- 
sidered himself an Englishman, it is true; w'as thoroughly 
loyal ; and was every way disposed to sustain the honour and 
interests of the seat of authority ; but when questions w'ere 
raised between Europe and America, he was an American ; 
as, in America itself, he regarded himself as purely a Virginian, 
in contradistinction to all the other colonies. He understood 
the intended sarcasm of Tom Wychecombe, but smothered his 
resentment, out of respect to the baronet, and perhaps a little 
influenced by the feelings in which he had been so lately 
indulging. 

“ Those gentlemen who are disposed to fancy such things of 
the colonies, would do well to visit that part of the world,” he 
answered, calmly, “before they express their opinions too loudly, 
lest they should say something that future observation might 
make them wish to recall.” 

“ T»*ue, my young friend — quite true,” put in the baronet, 
with the Sndest possible intentions. “ True as gospel. We 
never know any thing of matters about which we know 
nothing ; that we old men must admit. Master Dutton , and 
I should think Tom must see its force. It would be unreason- 
able to exptf'H to find every thing as comfortable in America 
as we have i here, in England ; nor do I suppose the Ameri- 
cans, in general, would be as likely to get over a cliff as an 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


45 


Englishman. However, there are exceptions to all general 
rules, as my poor brother James used to say, when he saw oc 
casion to find fault with the sermon of a prelate. I believe 
you did not know my poor brother, Dutton ; he must have 
been killed about the time you were born — St. James, I used 
to call him, although my brother Thomas, the judge that was, 
Tom’s father, there — said he was St. James the Less.” 

“ I believe the Rev. Mr. Wychecombe was dead before I 
was of an age to remember his virtues. Sir Wycherly,” said 
Dutton, respectfully ; “ though I have often heard my own 
father speak of all your honoured family.” 

“ Yes, your father, Dutton, was the attorney of the next 
town, and we all knew him well. You have done quite right 
to come hack among us to spend the close of your own days. 
A man is never as well off, as when he is thriving in his 
native soil ; more especially when that soil is old England, 
and Devonshire. You are not one of us, young gentleman, 
though your name happens to be Wychecombe ; but, then we 
are none of us accountable for our own births, or birth-places.” 

This truism, which is in the mouths of thousands while it 
is in the hearts of scarcely any, was well meant by Sir Wych- 
erly, however plainly expressed. It merely drew from the 
youth the simple answer that — “ he was born in the colonies, 
and had colonists for his parents ;” a fact that the others had 
heard already, some ten or a dozen times. 

“ It is a little singular, Mr. Wychecombe, that you should 
bear both of my names, and yet be no relative,” continued the 
baronet. “ Now, Wycherly came into our family from old Sir 
Hildebrand Wycherly, who was slain at Bosworth Field, and 
whose only daughter, my ancestor, and Tom’s ancestor, there, 
married. Since that day, Wycherly has been a favourite name 
among us. I do not think that the Wychecombes of Herts, 
ever thought of calling a son Wycherly, although, as my poor 


46 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


brother the judge used to say, they were related, but of the 
half-blood, only. I suppose your father taught you what is 
meant by being of the half-blood, Thomas ?” 

Tom Wychecombe’s face became the colour of scarlet, and 
he cast an uneasy glance at all present ; expecting in particular, 
to meet with a look of exultation in the eyes of the lieutenant. 
He was greatly relieved, however, at finding that neither of 
the three meant or understood more than was simply expressed. 
As for his uncle, he had not the smallest intention of making 
any allusion to the peculiarity of his nephew’s birth ; and the 
other two, in common with the world, supposed the reputed 
heir to be legitimate. Gathering courage from the looks of 
those around him, Tom answered with a steadiness that pre- 
vented his agitation from being detected : 

“ Certainly, my dear sir; my excellent parent forgot noth- 
ing that he thought might be useful to me, in maintaining 
my rights, and the honour of the family, hereafter. I very 
well understand that the Wychecombes of Hertfordshire have 
no claims on us ; nor, indeed, any Wychecombe who is not 
descended from my respectable grandfather, the late Sir 
Wycherly.” 

“ He must have been an early, instead of a late Sir 
Wycherly, rather, Mr. Thomas,” put in Dutton, laughing at 
his own conceit ; “ for I can remember no other than the hon- 
ourable baronet before us, in the last fifty years.” 

“ duite true, Dutton — very true,” rejoined the person last 
alluded to. “ As true as that ‘ time and tide wait for no man.’ 
We understand the meaning of such things on the coast here. 
It was half a century, last October, since I succeeded my re- 
spected parent ; but, it will not be another half century before 
some one will succeed me !” 

Sir Wycherly was a hale, hearty man for his years, but he 
had no unmanly dread of his end. Still he felt it could not 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


47 


be very distant, having already numbered fourscore and four 
years. ^Nevertheless, there w^ere certain phrases of usage, that 
Dutton did not see fit to forget on such an occasion, and he 
answered accordingly, turning to look at and admire the still 
ruddy countenance of the baronet, by way of giving emphasis 
to his words. 

“ You will yet see half of us into our graves, Sir Wych- 
i erly,” he said, “ and still remain an active man. Though I 
dare say another half century will bring most of us up. Even 
j Mr. Thomas, here, and your young namesake can hardly hope 
' to run out more line than that. Well, as for myself, I only 
desire to live through this war, that I may again see His 
! Majesty’s arms triumphant ; though they do tell me that we 
are in for a good thirty years’ struggle. Wars have lasted as 
I long as that, Sir Wycherly, and I don’t see why this may not, 
as well as another.” 

“ Very true, Dutton ; it is not only possible, but probable ; 

1 and I trust both you and I may live to see our flower-hunter 
! here, a post-captain, at least — though it would be wishing al- 
most too much to expect to see him an admiral. There has 
i been one admiral of the name, and I confess I should like to 
i see another !” 

“ Has not Mr. Thomas a brother in the service ?” de- 
i manded the master ; “ I had thought that my lord, the judge, 
had given us one of his young gentlemen.” 

“ He thought of it ; but the army got both of the boys, as 
it turned out. Gregory was to be the midshipman ; my poor 
brother intending him for a sailor from the first, and so giving 
him the name that was once borne by the unfortunate relative 
we lost by shipwreck. I wished him to call one of the lads 
James, after St. James ; but, somehow, I never could persuade 
Thomas to see all the excellence of that pious young man.” 

Dutton was a little embarrassed, for St. James had left 


48 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


any thing but a godly savour behind him ; and he was about 
to fabricate a tolerably bold assertion to the contrary, rather 
than incur the risk of offending the lord of the manor, when, 
luckily, a change in the state of the fog afforded him a favour- 
able opportunity of bringing about an apposite change in the 
subject. During the whole of the morning the sea had been 
invisible from the head-land, a dense body of vapour resting on 
it, far as eye could reach ; veiling the whole expanse with 
a single white cloud. The lighter portions of the vapour had 
at first floated around the head-land, which could not have 
been seen at any material distance ; but all had been gradu- 
ally settling down into a single mass, that now rose within 
twenty feet of the summit of the cliffs. The hour was still 
quite early, but the sun was gaining force, and it speedily 
drank up all the lighter particles of the mist, leaving a clear, 
bright atmosphere above the feathery bank, through which 
objects might be seen for miles. There was what seamen call 
a “ fanning breeze,” or just wind enough to cause the light 
sails of a ship to swell and collapse, under the double influence 
of the air and the motion of the hull, imitating in a slight 
degree the vibrations of that familiar appliance of the female 
toilet. Dutton’s eye had caught a glance of the loftiest sail 
of a vessel, above the fog, going through this very movement ; 
and it afforded him the release he desired, by enabling him to 
draw the attention of his companions to the same object. 

“ See, Sir Wycherly — see, Mr. Wychecombe,” he cried, 
eagerly, pointing in the direction of the sail ; “ yonder is some 
of the king’s canvass coming into our roadstead, or I am no 
judge of the set of a man-of-war’s royal. It is a large bit of 
cloth, too, Mr. Lieutenant, for a sail so lofty !” 

“ It is a two-decker’s royal, Master Dutton,” returned the 
young sailor ; “and now you see the fore and main, separately, 
as the ship keeps away.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS 


49 




“ Well,’* put in Sir Wycherly, in a resigned manner ; 

1 “ here have I lived fourscore years on this coast, and, for the 
life of me, I have never been able to tell a fore-royal from a 
back-royal ; or a mizzen head-stay from a head mizzen-stay. 
They are the most puzzling things imaginable ; and now I 
cannot discover how you know that yonder sail, which I see 
, plain enough, is a royal, any more than that it is a jib !” 

Dutton and the lieutenant smiled, but Sir Wycherly’s sim- 
plicity had a cast of truth and nature about it, that deterred 
most people from wishing to ridicule him. Then, the rank, 

, fortune, and local interest of the baronet, counted for a good 
j deal on all such occasions. 

I “ Here is another fellow, farther east,” cried Dutton, still 
; pointing with a finger ; “ and every inch as big as his consort ! 

{ Ah ! it does my eyes good to see our roadstead come into notice, 

I in this manner, after all I have said and done in its behalf — 
I But, who have we here — a brother chip, by his appearance ; 
j I dare say some idler who has been sent ashore with des- 
I patches.” 

I “ There is another fellow further east, and every inch as 
, big as his consort,” said Wychecombe, as we shall call our 
|i lieutenant, in order to distinguish him from Tom of the same 
j! name, repeating the very words of Dutton, with an application 
1 1 and readiness that almost amounted to wit, pointing, in his 
Ij turn, at two strangers who were ascending to the station by a 
!j path that led from the beach. “ Certainly both these gentle- 
' men are in His Majesty’s service, and they have probably just 
;i landed from the ships in the offing.” 

The truth of this conjecture was apparent to Dutton at a 
! glance. As the strangers joined each other, the one last seen 
I proceeded in advance ; and there was something in his years, 
i the confident manner in which he approached, and his general 
I appearance, that induced both the sailors to believe he might 
i 6 

f 


.50 


THE TWO ADMIUALS. 


be the commander of one of the ships that had just come in 
view. 

“ Good-morrow, gentlemen,” commenced this person, as 
soon as near enough to salute the party at the foot of the flag- 
staff; “ good-morrow to ye all. I’m glad to meet you, for it’s 
but a Jacob’s ladder, this path of yours, through the ravine in 
the cliffs. Hey ! why Atwood,” looking around him at the 
sea of vapour, in surprise, “ what the devil has become of the 
fleet ?” 

“ It is lost in the fog, sir ; we are above it, here ; when 
more on a level with the ships, we could see, or fancy we saw, 
more of them than we do now.” 

“Here^are the upper sails of two heavy ships, sir,” ob- 
served Wychecombe, pointing in the direction of the vessels 
already seen ; “ ay, and yonder are two more — ^nothing but the 
royals are visible.” 

“ Two more ! — I left eleven two-deckers, three frigates, a 
sloop, and a cutter in sight, when I got into the boat. You 
might have covered ’em all with a pocket-handkerchief, hey ! 
Atwood !” 

“ They were certainly in close order, sir, but I’ll not take it 
on myself to say quite as near together as that.” 

“ Ay, you’re a dissenter by trade, and never will believe in 
a miracle. Sharp work, gentlemen, to get up such a hill as 
this, after fifty.” 

“ It is, indeed, sir,” answered Sir Wycherly, kindly. “ Will 
you do us the favour to take a seat among us, and rest yourself 
after so violent an exertion ? The cliff is hard enough to as- 
cend, even when one keeps the path ; though here is a young 
gentleman who had a fancy just now to go down it, without a 
path ; and that, too, merely that a pretty girl might have a 
nosegay on her breakfast-table.” 

The stranger looked intently at Sir Wycherly for a moment, 


THE T’VYO ADMIRALS. 


51 


then glanced his eye at the groom and the pony, after which 
he took a survey of Tom Wychecombe, the lieutenant, and the 
master. He was a man accustomed to look about him, and he 
understood, by that rapid glance, the characters of all he sur- 
veyed, with perhaps the exception of that of Tom Wyche- 
combe ; and even of that he formed a tolerably shrewd conjec- 
ture. Sir Wycherly he immediately set down as the squire of 
the adjacent estate ; Dutton’s situation he hit exactly, conceiv- 
ing him to be a worn-out master, who was employed to keep 
the signal-station ; while he understood Wychecombo, by his 
undress, and air, to be a sea-lieutenant in the king’s service. 
Tom Wychecombe he thought it quite likely might be the son, 
and heir of the lord of the manor, both being in mourning ; 
though he decided in his own mind that there was not the 
smallest family likeness between them. Bowing with the 
courtesy of a man who knew how to acknowledge a civility, he 
took the proffered seat at Sir Wycherly’s side without farther 
ceremony. 

“ We must carry the young fellow to sea with us, sir,” re- 
joined the stranger, “ and that will cure him of looking for 
flowers in such ticklish places. His Majesty has need of us 
all, in this war ; and I trust, young gentleman, you have not 
been long ashore, among the girls.” 

“ Only long enough to make a cure of a pretty smart hurt, 
received in cutting out a lugger from the opposite coast,” 
answered Wychecombe, with sufficient modesty, and yet with 
sufficient spirit. 

“ Lugger ! — ha ! what Atwood ? You surely do not mean, 
young gentleman, la Yoltigeuse ?” 

“ That was the name of the craft, sir — we found her in the 
roads of Groix.” 

“ And then I’ve the pleasure of seeing Mr. Wychecombe, 
the young officer who led in that gallant attack ?” 


52 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


This was said with a most flattering warmth of manner, 
the stranger even rising and removing his hat, as he uttered 
the words with a heartiness that showed how much his feel- 
ings were in unison with what he said. 

“ I am Mr. Wychecomhe, sir,” answered the other, blush- 
ing to the temples, and returning the salute; “though I had 
not the honour of leading ; one of the lieutenants of our ship 
being in another boat.” 

“ Yes — I know all that — but he was beaten off, while you 
boarded and did the work. What have my lords commission- 
ers done in the matter ?” 

“ All that is necessary, so far as I am concerned, sir, I do 
assurer you ; having sent me a commission the very next week. 
I only wish they had been equally generous to Mr. Walton, 
who received a severe wound also, and behaved as well as 
man could behave.” 

“ That would not be so wise, Mr. Wychecombe, since it 
would be rewarding a failure,” returned the stranger, coldly. 
“ Success is all in all, in war. Ah ! there the fellows begin 
to show themselves, Atwood.” 

This remark drew all eyes, again, towards the sea, where 
a sight now presented itself that was really worthy of a passing 
notice. The vapour appeared to have become packed into a 
mass of some eighty or a hundred feet in height, leaving a 
perfectly clear atmosphere above it. In the clear air, were 
visible the upper spars and canvass of the entire fleet men- 
tioned by the stranger ; sixteen sail in all. There were the 
eleven two-deckers, and the three frigates, rising in pyramids 
of canvass, still fanning in towards the anchorage, which in 
that roadstead was within pistol-shot of the shore ; while the 
royals and upper part of the top-gallant sails of the sloop 
seemed to stand on the surface of the fog, like a monument. 
After a moment’s pause, Wychecombe discovered even the 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


53 


head of the cutter’s royal-mast, with the pennant lazily flutter- 
ing ahead of it, partly concealed in vapour. The fog seemed 
to settle, instead of rising, though it evidently rolled along the 
face of the waters, putting the whole scene in motion. It w'as 
not long ere the tops of the ships of the line became visible, 
and then living beings were for the first time seen in the mov- 
ing masses. 

“ I suppose we offer just such a sight to the top-men of the 
ships, as they offer to us,” observed the stranger. “ They 
must see this head-land and flag-staffi Mr. Wychecombe ; and 
there can be no danger of their standing in too far !” 

“ I should think not, sir ; certainly the men aloft can see 
the cliffs above the fog, as we see the vessels’ spars. Ha ! 
Mr. Dutton, there is a rear-admiral’s flag flying on board the 
ship farthest to the eastward.” 

“ So I see, sir ; and by looking at the third vessel on the 
western side of the line, you will find a bit of square bunting 
at the fore, which will tell you there is a vice-admiral be- 
neath it.” 

“ Q,uite true !” exclaimed Wychecombe, who was ever 
enthusiastic on matters relating to his profession ; “ a vice- 
admiral of the red, too ; w'hich is the next step to being a full 
admiral. This must be the fleet of Sir Digby Downes 1” 

“ No, young gentleman,” returned the stranger, who per- 
ceived by the glance of the other’s eye, that a question was 
indirectly put to himself ; “ it is the southern squadron ; and 
the vice-admiral’s flag you see, belongs to Sir Gervaise Oakes. 
Admiral Bluewater is on board the ship that carries a flag at 
the mizzen.” 

“ Those two officers always go together. Sir Wycherly,” 
added the young man. “ Whenever we hear the name of Sir 
Gervaise, that of Bluewater is certain to accompany it. Such 

a union in service is delightful to witness.” 

5 * 


54 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Well may they go in company, Mr. Wychecombe,” re- 
turned the stranger, betraying a little emotion. “ Oakes and 
Bluewater were reefers together, under old Breasthook, in the 
Mermaid ; and when the first was made a lieutenant into the 
Squid, the last followed as a mate. Oakes was first of the 
Briton, in her action with the Spanish frigates, and Bluewater 
third. For that affair Oakes got a sloop, and his friend went 
with him as his first. The next year they had the luck to 
capture a heavier ship than their own, when, for the first time 
in their service, the two young men were separated ; Oakes 
getting a frigate, and Bluewater getting the Squid. Still they 
cruised in company, until the senior was sent in command of 
a fiying squadron, with a broad pennant, when the junior, who 
by this time was post, received his old messmate on board his 
own frigate. In that manner they served together, down to 
the hour when the first hoisted his fiag. From that time, the 
two old seamen have never been parted ; Bluewater acting as 
the admiral’s captain, until he got the square bunting himself. 
The vice-admiral has never led the van of a fieet, that the 
rear-admiral did not lead the rear-division ; and, now that Sir 
Gervaise is a commander-in-chief, you see his friend, Dick 
Bluewater, is cruising in his company.” 

While the stranger was giving this account of the Two Ad- 
mirals, in a half-serious, half-jocular manner, the eyes of his 
companions were on him. He was a middle-sized, red-faced 
man, with an aquiline nose, a light-blue animated eye, and a 
mouth, which denoted more of the habits and care of refine- 
ment than either his dress or his ordinary careless mien. A 
great deal is said about the aristocracy of the ears, and the 
hands, and the feet ; but of all the features, or other ap- 
pliances of the human frame, the mouth and the nose have 
the greatest inffuence in producing an impression of gentility. 
This was peculiarly the case with the stranger, whose beak, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


55 


like that of an ancient galley, gave the promise of a stately 
movement, and whose beautiful teeth and winning smile, often 
relieved the expression of a countenance that was not unfre- 
quently stern. As he ceased speaking, Dutton rose, in a 
studied manner, raised his hat entirely from his head, bowed 
his body nearly to a right angle, and said, 

“ Unless my memory is treacherous, I believe I have the 
honor to see Rear-Admiral Blue water, himself ; I was a mate 
in the Medway, when he commanded the Chloe ; and, un- 
less five-and-twenty years have made more changes than I 
think probable, he is now on this hill.” 

“ Your memory is a bad one, Mr. Dutton, and your hill has 
on it a much worse man, in all respects, than Admiral Blue- 
water. They say that man and wife, from living together, 
and thinking alike, having the same affections, loving the 
same objects, or sometimes hating them, get in time to look 
alike ; hey ! Atwood ? It may be that I am growing like 
Bluewater, on the same principle ; but this is the first time 1 
ever heard the thing suggested. I am Sir Gervaise Oakes, at 
your service, sir.” 

The bow of Dutton w'-as now much lower than before, 
while young Wychecombe uncovered himself, and Sir Wycherly 
arose and paid his compliments cordially, introducing himself 
and offering the admiral and all his officers the hospitality of 
the Hall. 

“Ay, this is straight-forward and hearty, and in the good old 
English manner !” exclaimed the admiral, when he had re- 
turned the salutes, and cordially thanked the baronei. “ One 
might land in Scotland, now, anywhere between the Tweed 
and John a’Groat’s house, and not be asked so much as to cat 
an oaten cake ; hey ! Atwood ? — always excepting the moun- 
tain dew.” 

“ You will have your fling at my poor countrymen, Sir 


56 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Gervaise, and so there is no more to be said on the subject,” 
returned the secretary, for such was the rank of the admiral’s 
companion. “ I might feel hurt at times, did I not know that 
you get as many Scotsmen about you, in your own ship, as you 
can ; and that a fleet is all the better in your judgment, for 
having every other captain from the land o’ cakes.” 

“ Did you ever hear the like of that. Sir Wycherly ? Be- 
cause I stick to a man I like, he accuses me of having a pred- 
ilection for his whole country. Here’s Atwood, now ; he 
was my clerk, when in a sloop ; and he has followed me to 
the Plantagenet, and because I do not throw him overboard* 
he wishes to make it appear half Scotland is in her hold.” 

“ Well, there are the surgeon, the purser, one of the mates, 
one of the marine officers, and the fourth lieutenant, to keep 
me company Sir Gervaise,” answered the secretary, smiling 
like one accustomed to his superior’s jokes, and who cared very 
little about them. “ When you send us all back to Scotland, 
I’m thinking there will be many a good vacancy to fill.” 

. “ The Scotch make themselves very useful, Sir Gervaise,” 

put in Sir Wycherly, by way of smoothing the matter over ; 
“ and now we have a Brunswick prince on the throne, we 
Englishmen have less jealousy of them than formerly. I am 
sure I should be happy to see all the gentlemen mentioned by 
Mr. Atwood, at Wychecombe Hall.” 

“There, you’re all well berthed while the fleet lies m 
these roads. Sir Wycherly, in the name of Scotland, I thank 
you. But what an extr’ornary (for so admirals pronounced 
the word a hundred years ago) scene this is, hey ! Atwood ? 
Many a time have I seen the hulls of ships when their spars 
were hid in the fog ; but I do not remember ever to have seen 
before, sixteen sets of masts and sails moving about on vapour, 
without a single hull to uphold them. The tops of all the 
two -decked ships are as plainly to be seen, as if the air were 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


57 


u^thout a particle of vapour, while all below the cat-harpings 
is hid in a cloud as thick as the smoke of battle. I do not 
half like Bluewater’s standing in so far ; perhaps, Mr. Dutton, 
they cannot see the cliffs, for I assure you we did not, 
until quite close under them. We went altogether by the 
lead, the masters feeling their way like so many blind beg- 
gars !” 

“We always keep that nine-pounder loaded. Sir Gervaise,” 
returned the master, “ in order to warn vessels when they are 
getting near enough in ; and if Mr. Wychecombe, who is 
younger than I, will run to the house and light this match, I 
will prime, and we may give ’em warning where they are, in 
less than a minute.” 

The admiral gave a ready assent to this proposition, and 
the respective parties immediately set about putting it in exe- 
cution. Wychecombe hastened to the house to light the 
match, glad of an opportunity to inquire after Mildred ; while 
Dutton produced a priming-horn from a sort of arm-chest that 
stood near the gun, and put the latter in a condition to be dis- 
charged. The young man was absent but a minute, and 
when all was ready, he turned towards the admiral, in order 
to get the signal to proceed. 

“ Let ’em have it, Mr. Wychecombe,” cried Sir Gervaise, 
smiling ; “it will wake Bluewater up ; perhaps he may favour 
us with a broadside, by way of retort.” 

The match was applied, and the report of the gun suc- 
ceeded. Then followed a pause of more than a minute ; when 
the fog lifted around the Caesar, the ship that wore a rear- 
admiral’s flag, a flash like lightning was seen glancing in the 
mist, and then came the bellowing of a piece of heavy ord- 
nance. Almost at the same instant, three little flags appeared 
at the mast-head of the Caesar, for previously to quitting his 
own ship. Sir Gervaise had sent a message to his friend, re- 


58 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


questing him to take care of the fleet. This was the signal to 
anchor. The efiect of all this, as seen from the height, was 
exceedingly striking. As yet not a single hull had become 
visible, the fog remaining packed upon the water, in a way to 
conceal even the lower yards of the two-deckers. All above 
was bright, distinct, and so near, as almost to render it possi- 
ble to distinguish persons. There every thing was vivid, 
while a sort of supernatural mystery veiled all beneath. Each 
ship had an officer aloft to look out for signals, and no sooner 
had the Caesar opened her three little flags, which had long 
been suspended in black balls, in readiness for this service, 
than the answers were seen floating at the mast-head of each 
of the^vessels. Then commenced a spectacle still more curi- 
ous than that which those on the clilT had so long been regard- 
ing with interest. Ropes began to move, and the sails were 
drawn up in festoon's, apparently without the agency of hands. 
Cut off from a seeming communication with the ocean, or the 
hulls, the spars of the different ships appeared to be instinct 
with life ; each machine playing its own part independently 
of the others, but all having the same object in view. In a 
very few minutes the canvass was hauled up, and the whole 
fleet was swinging to the anchors. Presently head after head 
was thrown out of the fog, the upper yards were alive with 
men, and the sails were handed. Next came the squaring of 
the yards, though this was imperfectly done, and a good deal 
by guess-work. The men came down, and there lay a noble 
fleet at anchor, with nothing visible to those on the cliffs, but 
their top-hamper and upper spars. 

Sir Gervaise Oakes had been so much struck and amused 
with a sight that to him happened to be entirely novel, that 
he did not speak during the whole process of anchoring. In- 
deed, many a man might pass his life at sea, and never wit- 
ness such a scene ; but those who have, know that it is one of 


IHE TWO ADMIRALS. 


59 


the most beautiful and striking spectacles connected with the 
wonders of the great deep. 

By this time the sun had got so high, as to begin to stir 
the fog, and streams of vapour were shooting up from the 
beach, like smoke rising from coal-pits. The wind increased, 
too, and rolled the vapour before it, and in less than ten min- 
utes, the veil was removed ; ship after ship coming out in 
plain view, until the entire fleet was seen riding in the road- 
stead, in its naked and distinct proportions. 

“ Now, Bluewater is a happy fellow,” exclaimed Sir Ger- 
vaise. “ He sees his great enemy, the land, and knows how 
to deal with it.” 

“ I thought the French were the great and natural ene- 
mies of every British sailor,” observed Sir Wycherly, simply, 
but quite to the point. 

“ Hum — there’s truth in that, too. But the land is an 
enemy to be feared, while the Frenchman is not — hey ! At- 
wood ?” 

It was, indeed, a goodly sight to view the fine fleet that 
now lay anchored beneath the cliffs of Wychecombe. Sir 
Gervaise Oakes was, in that period, considered a successful 
naval commander, and was a favourite, both at the admiralty 
and with the nation. His popularity extended to the most 
distant colonies of England, in nearly all of which he had 
served with zeal and credit. But we are not writing of an 
age of nautical wonders, like that which succeeded at the 
close of the. century. The French and Dutch, and even the 
Spaniards, were then all formidable as naval powers ; for rev- 
olutions and changes had not destroyed their maritime corps, 
nor had the consequent naval ascendency of England annihi- 
lated their navigation ; the two great causes of the subsequent 
apparent invincibility of the latter power. Battles at sea, in 
that day, were warmly contested, and were frequently fruit- 


60 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


less ; more especially when fleets were brought in opposition. 
The single combats were usually more decisive, though the 
absolute success of the British flag, was far from being as 
much a matter of course as it subsequently became. In a 
word, the science of naval warfare had not made those great 
strides, which marked the career of England in the end, nor 
had it retrograded among her enemies, to the point which 
appears to have rendered their defeat nearly certain. Still 
Sir Gervaise was a successful officer ; having captured several 
single ships, in bloody encounters, and having actually led 
fleets with credit, in four or five of the great battles of the 
times ; besides being second and third in command, on various 
similar occasions. His own ship was certain to be engaged, 
let what would happen to the others. Equally as captains 
and as flag-officers, the nation had become familiar with the 
names of Oakes and Blue water, as men ever to be found sus- 
taining each other in the thickest of the fight. It may be well 
to add here, that both these favourite seamen were men of 
family, or at least what was considered men of family among 
the mere gentry of England ; Sir Gervaise being a baronet by 
inheritance, while his friend actually belonged to one of those 
naval lines which furnishes admirals for generations ; his 
father having worn a white flag at the main ; and his grand- 
father having been actually ennobled for his services, dying 
vice-admiral of England, These fortuitous circumstances per- 
haps rendered both so much the greater favourites at court. 


CHAPTER IV. 


“ All with you ; except three 

On duty, and our leader Israel, 

Who is expected momeitly.” 

Marino Faliero. 

As his fleet was safely anchored, and that too, in beautiful 
order, in spite of the fog, Sir Gervaise Oakes showed a dispo- 
sition to pursue what are termed ulterior views. 

“ This has been a fine sight — certainly a very fine sight ; 
such as an old seaman loves ; hut there must be an end to it,” 
he said. “ You will excuse me, Sir Wycherly, hut the move- 
ments of a fleet always have interest in my eyes, and it is 
seldom that I get such a bird’s-eye view of those of my own ; 
no wonder it has made me a somewhat unreflecting intruder.” 

“ Make no apologies, Sir Gervaise, I beg of you ; for none 
are needed, on any account. Though this head-land does be- 
long to the Wychecombe property, it is fairly leased to the 
crown, and none have a better right to occupy it than His 
Majesty’s servants. The Hall is a little more private, it is true, 
but even that has no door that will close upon our gallant naval 
defenders. It is but a short walk, and nothing will make me 
happier than to show you the way to my poor dwelling, and to 
see you as much at home under its roof, as you could he in the 
cabin of the Plantagenet.” 

“If any thing could make me as much at home in a house 
as in a ship, it would be so hearty a welcome ; and I intend to 
accept your hospitality in the very spirit in which it is offered. 
Atwood and I have landed to send off’ some important des- 


62 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


patches to the First Lord, and we will thank you for putting 
us in the way of doing it, in the safest and most expeditious 
manner. Curiosity and surprise have already occasioned the 
loss of half an hour ; while a soldier, or a sailor, should never 
lose half a minute.” 

“ Is a courier who knows the country well, needed. Sir Ger- 
vaise?” the lieutenant demanded, modestly, though with an 
interest that showed he was influenced only by zeal for the 
service. 

The admiral looked at him, intently, for a moment, and 
seemed pleased with the hint implied in the question. 

“Can you ride ?” asked Sir Gervaise, smiling. “ I could 
have brought half-a-dozen youngsters ashore with me ; hut, 
besides the doubts about getting a horse — a chaise I take it is 
out of the question here — I was afraid the lads might disgrace 
themselves on horseback.” 

“ This must be said in pleasantry, Sir Gervaise,” returned 
Wychecombe ; “ he would be a strange Virginian at least, 
who does not know how to ride !” 

“ And a strange Englishman, too, Bluewater would say ; 
and yet I never see the fellow straddle a horse that I do not 
wish it were a studding-sail-boom run out to leeward ! We 
sailors fancy we ride, Mr. Wychecombe, but it is some such 
fancy as a marine has for the fore-topmast-cross-trees. Can a 
horse be had, to go as far as the nearest post-oflice that sends 
ofl' a daily mail ?” 

“ That can it, Sir Gervaise,” put in Sir Wycherly. “ Here 
is Dick mounted on as good a hunter as is to be found in 
England ; and I’ll answer for my young namesake’s willing- 
ness to put the animal’s mpttle to the proof. Our little mail 
has just left Wychecombe for the next twenty-four hours, but 
by pushing the beast, there will be time to reach the high road 
in 'season for the great London mail, which passes the nearest 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


63 


market- town at noon. It is but a gallop of ten miles and back, 
and that I’ll answer for Mr. Wychecombe’s ability to do, and 
to join us at dinner by four.” 

Young Wychecombe expressing his readiness to perform all 
this, and even more at need, the arrangement was soon made. 
Dick was dismounted, the lieutenant got his despatches and 
his instructions, took his leave, and had galloped out of yght,' 
in the next five minutes. The admiral then declared himself 
at liberty for the day, accepting the invitation of Sir Wycherly 
to breakfast and dine at the Hall, in the same spirit of frank- 
ness as that in which it had been given. Sir Wycherly was 
so spirited as to refuse the aid of his pony, but insisted on walk- 
ing through the village and park to his dwelling, though the 
distance was more than a mile. Just as they were quitting 
the signal-station, the old man took the admiral aside, and in 
an earnest, but respectful manner, disburthened his mind to the 
following effect. 

“ Sir Gervaise,” he said, “ I am no sailor, as you know, 
and least of all do I bear His Majesty’s commission in the 
navy, though I am in the county commission as a justice of the 
peace ; so, if I make any little mistake you will have the 
goodness to overlook it, for I know that the etiquette of the 
quarter-deck is a very serious matter, and is not to be trifled 
with ; — but here is Dutton, as good a fellow in his way as 
lives — his father was a sort of a gentleman too, having been 
the attorney of the neighbourhood, and the old man was accus- 
tomed to dine with me forty years ago — ” 

“ I believe I understand you. Sir Wycherly,” interrupted 
the admiral ; “ and I thank you for the attention you wish to 
pay my prejudices ; but, you are master of Wychecombe, and 
I should feel myself a troublesome intruder, indeed, did you 
not ask whom you please to dine at your own table.” 

That’s not quite it. Sir Gervaise, though you have not 


64 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


gone far wide of the mark. Dutton is only a master, you 
know ; and it seems that a master on board ship is a verj' dif- 
ferent thing from a master on shore ; so Dutton, himself, has 
often told me.” 

“ Ay, Dutton is right enough as regards a king’s ship, 
though the two offices are pretty much the same, when other 
craft are alluded to. But, my dear Sir Wycherly, an admiral 
is not disgraced by keeping company with a boatswain, if the 
latter is an honest man. It is true we have our customs, and 
what we call our quarter-deck and forward officers ; which is 
court end and city, on hoard ship ; but a master belongs to the 
first, and the master of the Plantagenet, Sandy McYarn, dines 
with me once a month, as regularly as he enters a new word 
at the top of his log-book. I beg, therefore, you will extend 
your hospitality to whom you please — or — ” the admiral hesi- 
tated, as he cast a good-natured glance at the master, who 
stood still uncovered, waiting for his superior to move away ; 
“ or, perhaps. Sir Wycherly, you would permit me to ask a 
friend to make one of our party.” 

“ That’s just it. Sir Gervaise,” returned the kind-hearted 
baronet ; “ and Dutton will be one of the happiest fellows in 
Devonshire. I wish we could have Mrs. Dutton and Milly, 
and then the table would look what my poor brother James — 
St. James I used to call him — what the Rev. James Wyche- 
combe was accustomed to term, mathematical. He said a 
table should have all its sides and angles duly filled. James 
was a most agreeable companion. Sir Gervaise, and, in divin- 
ity, he would not have turned his back on one of the apostles, 
I do verily believe !” 

The admiral bowed, and turning to the master, he invited 
him to be of the party at the Hall, in the manner which one 
long accustomed to render his civilities agreeable by a sort of 
professional off-handed way, well knew how to assume. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


65 


“ Sir Wycherly has insisted that I shall consider his table 
as set in rny own cabin,” he continued ; “ and I know of no 
better manner of proving my gratitude, than by taking him 
at his word, and filling it with guests that will be agreeable 
to us both. I believe there is a Mrs. Dutton, and a Miss — a 
— a — a — ” 

“ Milly,” put in the baronet, eagerly ; “ Miss Mildred Dut- 
ton — the daughter of our good friend Dutton, here, and a 
young lady who would do credit to the gayest drawing-room 
in London.” 

“ You perceive, sir, that our kind host anticipates the 
wishes of an old bachelor, as it might be by instinct, and desires 
the company of the ladies, also. Miss Mildred will, at least, 
have two young men to do homage to her beauty, and three 
old ones to sigh in the distance — hey ! Atwood ?” 

“ Mildred, as Sir Wycherly knows, sir, has been a little 
disturbed this morning,” returned Dutton, putting on his best 
manner for the occasion ; “ but, I feel no doubt, will be too 
grateful for this honour, not to exert herself to make a suitable 
return. As for my wife, gentlemen — ” 

“ And what is to prevent Mrs. Dutton from being one of 
the party,” interrupted Sir Wycherly, as he observed the hus- 
band to hesitate ; “ she sometimes favours me with her com- 
pany.” 

“I rather think she will to-day. Sir Wycherly, if Mildred 
is well enough to go ; the good woman seldom lets her daugh- 
ter stray far from her apron-strings. She keeps her, as I 
tell her, within the sweep of her own hawse. Sir Gervaise.” 

“ So much the wiser she. Master Dutton,” returned the 
admiral, pointedly. “ The best pilot for a young woman is a 
good mother ; and now you have a fleet in your roadstead, 1 
need not tell a seaman of your experience that you are on 

pilot-ground ; — hey ! A. wood ?” 

6 * 


60 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Here the parties separated, Dutton remaining uncovered 
until his superior had turned the corner of his little cottage, 
and was fairly out of sight. Then the master entered his 
dwelling to prepare his wife and daughter for the honours they 
had in perspective. Before he executed this duty, however, 
the unfortunate man opened what he called a locker — what a 
housewife would term a cupboard — and fortified his nerves 
with a strong draught of pure Nantes ; a liquor that no hos- 
tilities, custom-house duties, or national antipathies, has ever 
been able to bring into general disrepute in the British Islands. 
In the mean time the party of the two baronets pursued its way 
towards the Hall. 

The village, or hamlet of Wychecornbe, lay about half-way 
between the station and the residence of the lord of the manor. 
It was an exceedingly rural and retired collection of mean 
houses, possessing neither physician, apothecary, nor attorney, 
to give it importance. A small inn, two or three shops of the 
humblest kind, and some twenty cottages of labourers and me- 
chanics, composed the place, which, at that early day, had not 
even a chapel, or a conventicle ; dissent not having made 
much progress then in England. The parish church, one of 
the old edifices of the time of the Henrys, stood quite alone, 
in a field, more than a mile from the place ; and the vicarage, 
a respectable abode, was just on the edge of the park, fully 
half a mile more distant. In short, Wychecornbe was one of 
those places which was so far on the decline, that few or no 
traces of any little importance it may have once possessed, 
were any longer to be discovered ; and it had sunk entirely 
into a hamlet that owed its allowed claims to be marked on 
the maps, and to be noted in the gazetteers, altogether to its 
antiquity, and the name it had given to one of the oldest 
knightly families in England. 

No wonder then, that the arrival of a fleet under the head. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


67 


produced a great excitement in the little village. The anchor- 
age was excellent, so far as the bottom was concerned, but it 
could scarcely be called a roadstead in any other point of view, 
since there was shelter against no wind but that which blew 
directly off shore, which hapened to he a wind that did not 
prevail in that part of the island. Occasionally, a small cruiser 
would come-to, in the offing, and a few frigates had lain at 
single anchors in the roads, for a tide or so, in waiting for a 
change of weather ; hut this was the first fleet that had been 
known to moor under the cliffs within the memory of man. 
The fog had prevented the honest villagers from ascertaining 
the unexpected honour that had been done them, until the re- 
ports of the two guns reached their ears, when the important 
intelligence spread with due rapidity over the entire adjacent 
country. Although Wychecombe did not lie in actual view 
of the sea, by the time the party of Sir Wycherly entered the 
hamlet, its little street was already crowded with visiters from 
the fleet ; every vessel having sent at least one boat ashore, 
and many of them some three or four. Captain’s and gun- 
room stewards, midshipmen’s foragers, loblolly hoys, and other 
similar harpies, were out in scores ; for this was a part of the 
world in which bum-boats were unknown ; and if the moun- 
tain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must fain go to 
the mountain. Half an hour had sufficed to exhaust all the 
unsophisticated simplicity of the hamlet ; and milk, eggs, fresh 
buttei, soft-tommy, vegetables, and such fruits as were ripe, 
had already risen quite one hundred per cent, in the market. 

Sir Gervaise had called his force the southern squadron, 
from the circumstance of its having been cruising in the Bay 
of Biscay, for the last six months. This was a wild winter- 
station, the danger from the elements greatly surpassing any 
that could well be anticipated from the enemy. The duty 
notwithstanding had been well and closely performed ; several 


68 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


West India, and one valuable East India convoy having been 
effectually protected, as well as a few straggling frigates of the 
enemy picked up ; but the service had been excessively labo- 
rious to all engaged in it, and replete with privations. Most 
of those who now landed, had not trod terra firma for half a 
year, and it was not wonderful that all the officers whose duties 
did not confine them to the vessels, gladly seized the occasion 
to feast their senses with the verdure and odours of their native 
island. Q/uite a hundred guests of this character were also 
pouring into the street of Wychecombe, or spreading themselves 
among the surrounding farm-houses ; flirting with the awk- 
ward and blushing girls, and keeping an eye at the same time 
to the main chance of the mess-table. 

“ Our boys have already found out your village. Sir Wych- 
erly, in spite of the fog,” the vice-admiral remarked, good- 
humouredly, as he cast his eyes around at the movement of the 
street ; “ and the locusts of Egypt will not come nearer to 
breeding a famine. One would think there was a great dinner 
in petto, in every cabin of the fleet, by the number of the 
captain’s stewards that are ashore, hey ! Atwood ? I have 
seen nine of the harpies, myself, and the other seven can’t be 
far off.” 

“ Here is Galleygo, Sir Gervaise,” returned the secretary, 
smiling ; “ though he can scarcely be called a captain’s steward, 
having the honour to serve a vice-admiral and a commander- 
in-chief” 

“ Ay, but we feed the whole fleet at times, and have some 
excuse for being a little exacting — harkee, Galleygo — get a 
horse-cart, and push off at once, four or five miles further into 
the country ; you might as well expect to find real pearls in 
fishes’ eyes, as hope to pick up any thing nice among so many 
gun-room and cock-pit boys. I dine ashore to-day, but Captain 
Greenly is fond of mutton-chops, you’ll remember.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


69 


This was said kindly, and in the manner of a man accus- 
tomed to treat his domestics with the familiarity of humble 
friends. Galleygo was as unpromising a looking butler as any 
gentleman ashore would be at all likely to tolerate ; but he 
had been with his present master, and in his present capacity, 
ever since the latter had commanded a sloop of war. All his 
youth had been passed as a top-man, and he was really a prime 
seaman ; but accident having temporarily placed him in his 
present station. Captain Oakes was so much pleased with his 
attention to his duty, and particularly with his order, that he 
ever afterwards retained him in his cabin, notwithstanding the 
strong desire the honest fellow himself had felt to remain aloft. 
Time and familiarity, at length reconciled the steward to his 
station, though he did not formally accept it, until a clear 
agreement had been made that he was not to be considered an 
idler on any occasion that called for the services of the best 
men. In this manner David, for such was his Christian name, 
had become a sort of nondescript on board of a man-of-war ; 
being foremost in all the cuttings out, a captain of a gun, and 
was frequently seen on a yard in moments of difficulty, just to 
keep his hand in, as he expressed it, while he descended to 
the duties of the cabin in peaceable times and good weather. 
Near thirty years had he thus been half-steward, half-seaman 
when afloat, while on land he was rather a counsellor and 
minister of the closet, than a servant ; for out of a ship he was 
utterly useless, though he never left his master for a week at 
a time, ashore or afloat. The name of Galleygo was a sobri- 
quet conferred by his brother top-men, but had been so gener- 
ally used, that for the last twenty years most of his shipmates 
believed it to be his patronymic. When this compound of 
cabin and forecastle received the order just related, he touched 
the lock of hair on his forehead, a ceremony he always used 
before he spoke to Sir Gervaise, the hat being removed at some 


70 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


three or lour yards’ distance, and made his customary answer 
of — 

“ Ay-a}-sir — your honour has been a young gentleman 
yourself, and knows what a young gentleman’s stomach gets 
to be, a’ ter a six months’ fast in the Bay of Biscay ; and a 
young gentleman’s hoy's stomach, too. I always thinks there’s 
but a small chance for us, sir, when I sees six or eight of them 
light cruisers in my neighbourhood. They’re som’mat like the 
sloops and cutters of a fleet, which picks up all the prizes.” 

“ Q,uite true. Master Galleygo ; but if the light cruisers get 
the prizes, you should recollect that the admiral always has 
his share of the prize-money.” 

“Yes, sir, I knows we has our share, but that’s accordin’ to 
law, and because the commanders of the light craft can’t help 
it. Let ’em once get the law on their side, and not a ha’pence 
would bless our pockets ! No, sir, what we gets, we gets by 
the law ; and as there is no law to fetch up young gentlemen 
or their boys, that pays as they goes, we never gets any thing 
they or their boys puts hands on.” 

“ I dare say you are right, David, as you always are. It 
wouldn’t be a bad thing to have an Act of Parliament to give 
an admiral his twentieth in the reefers’ foragings. The old 
fellows would sometimes get back some of their own poultry 
and fruit in that way, hey ! Atwood ?” 

The secretary smiled his assent, and then Sir Gervaise 
apologized to his host, repeated the order to the steward, and 
the party proceeded. 

“ This fellow of mine. Sir Wycherly, is no respecter of 
persons, beyond the etiquette of a man-of-war,” the admiral 
continued, by way of further excuse. “ I believe His Majesty 
himself would be favoured with an essay on some part of the 
economy of the cabin, were Galleygo to get an opportunity of 
speaking his mind to him. Nor is the fool without his expcc- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


VI 


tatioiis of some day enjoying this privilege ; for the last time I 
went to court, I found honest David rigged, from stem to stern, 
in a full suit of claret and steel, under the idea that he was 
‘ to sail in company with me,’ as he called it, ‘ with or without 
signal !’ ” 

‘‘ There was nothing surprising in that. Sir Gervaise,” 
observed the secretary. “ Galleygo has sailed in company 
with you so long, and to so many strange lands; has been 
through so many dangers at your side, and has got so com- 
pletely to consider himself as part of the family, that it was 
the most natural thing in the W'orld he should expect to go to 
court with you.” 

“ True enough. The fellow would face the devil, at my 
side, and I don’t see why he should hesitate to face the king. 
I sometimes call him Lady Oakes, Sir Wycherly, for he ap- 
pears to think he has a right of dower, or to some other law- 
yer-like claim on my estate ; and as for the fleet, he always 
speaks of that^ as if we commanded it in common. I wonder 
how Bluewater tolerates the blackguard ; for he never scruples 
to allude to him as ynder our orders ! If any thing should 
befal me, Dick and David would have a civil war for the suc- 
cession, hey ! Atwood?” 

“ I think military subordination would bring Galleygo to 
his senses. Sir Gervaise, should such an unfortunate accident 
occur — which Heaven avert for many years to come ! There 
is Admiral Bluewater coming up the street, at this very mo- 
ment, sir.” 

At this sudden announcement, the whole party turned to 
look in the direction intimated by the secretary. It was by 
this time at one end of the short street, and all saw a man 
just entering the other, who, in his walk, air, attire, and man- 
ner, formed a striking contrast to the active, merry, bustling, 
youthful young sailors who thronged the hamlet. In person, 


72 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Admiral Bluewater was exceedingly tall and exceedingly thin. 
Like most seamen who have that physical formation, he stoop- 
ed ; a circumstance that gave his years a greater apparent 
command over his frame, than they possessed in reality. While 
this bend in his figure deprived it, in a gFeat measure, of 
the sturdy martial air that his superior presented to the ob- 
server, it lent to his carriage a quiet and dignity that it might 
otherwise have wanted. Certainly, were this officer attired 
like an ordinary civilian, no one would have taken him for 
one of England’s bravest and most efficient sea-captains ; he 
would have passed rather as some thoughtful, well-educated, 
and refined gentleman, of retired habits, diffident of himself, 
and a stranger to ambition. He wore an undress rear-admiral’s 
uniform, as a matter of course ; but he wore it carelessly, 
as if from a sense of duty only ; or conscious that no arrange- 
ment could give him a military air. Still all about his per- 
son was faultlessly neat, and perfectly respectable. In a word, 
no one but a man accustomed to the sea, were it not for his 
uniform, M’'ould suspect the rear-admiral of being a sailor ; and 
even the seaman himself might be often puzzled to detect any 
other signs of the profession about him, than were to be found 
in a face, which, fair, gentlemanly, handsome, and even 
courtly as it was, in expression and outline, wore the tint 
that exposure invariably stamps on the mariner’s counte- 
nance. Here, however, his unseaman-like character ceased. 
Admiral Oakes had often declared that “ Dick Bluewater 
knew more about a ship than any man in England and as 
for a fleet, his mode of manoeuvring one had got to be stand- 
ard in the service. 

As soon as Sir Gervaise recognised his friend, he expressed 
a wish to wait for him, which was courteously converted by 
Sir Wycherly into a proposition to return and meet him. So 
abstracted was Admiral Bluewater, however, that he did not 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


73 


see the party that was approaching him, until he was fairly 
accosted by Sir Gervaise, who led the advance by a few 
yards. 

“ Good-day to you, Bluewater,” commenced the latter, in 
his familiar, off-hand way ; “ I’m glad you have torn yourself 
away from your ship ; though I must say the manner in 
which you came-to, in that fog, was more like instinct, than 
any thing human ! I determined to tell you as much, the mo- 
ment we met ; for I don’t think there is a ship, half her 
length out of mathematical order, notwithstanding the tide 
runs, here, like a race-horse.” 

“ That is owing to your captains. Sir Gervaise,” returned 
the other, observing the respect of manner, that the inferior 
never loses with his superior, on service, and in a navy ; let 
their relative rank and intimacy be what they may on all other 
occasions ; “ good captains make handy ships. Our gentlemen 
have now been together so long, that they understand each 
other’s movements ; and every vessel in the fleet has her char- 
acter as well as her commander !” 

“Very true. Admiral Bluewater, and yet there is not an- 
other officer in His Majesty’s service, that could have brought 
a fleet to anchor, in so much order, and in such a fog ; and I 
ask your leave, sir, most particularly to thank you for the 
lesson you have given, not only to the captains, but to the 
commander-in-chief I presume I may admire that which I 
cannot exactly imitate.” 

The rear-admiral merely smiled and touched his hat in 
acknowledgment of the compliment, but he made no direct 
answer in words. By this time Sir Wycherly and the others 
had approached, and the customary introductions took place. 
Sir Wycherly now pressed his new acquaintance to join his 
guests, with so much heartiness, that there was no such thing 
as refusing. 

7 


74 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Since you and Sir Gervaise both insist on it so earnestly, 
Sir Wycherly,” returned the rear-admiral, “ I must consent ; 
but as it is contrary to our practice, when on foreign service — 
and I call this roadstead a foreign station, as to any thing we 
know about it — as it is contrary to our practice for both flag- 
officers to sleep out of the fleet, I shall claim the privilege to 
be allowed to go off to my ship before midnight. I think the 
weather looks settled. Sir Gervaise, and we may trust that 
many hours, without apprehension.” 

“ Pooh — pooh — Bluewater, you are always fancying the 
ships in a gale, and clawing off a lee-shore. Put your heart at 
rest, and let us go and take a comfortable dinner with Sir 
Wycherly, who has a London paper, I dare to say, that may 
let us into some of the secrets of state. Are there any tidings 
from our people in Flanders ?” 

“ Things remain pretty much as they have been,” returned 
Sir Wycherly, “ since that last terrible affair, in which the 
Duke got the better of the French at — I never can remember 
an outlandish name ; but it sounds something like a Chris- 
tian baptism. If my poor brother, St. James, were living, 
now, he could tell us all about it.” 

“ Christian baptism ! That’s an odd allusion for a field of 
battle. The armies can’t have got to Jerusalem ; hey ! 
Atwood ?” 

“ I rather think, Sir Gervaise,” the secretary coolly re- 
marked, “ that Sir Wycherly Wychecombe refers to the battle 
that took place last spring — it was fought at Font-something ; 
and a font certainly has something to do with Christian 
baptism.” 

“That’s it — that’s it,” cried Sir Wycherly, with some 
eagerness ; “ Fontenoi was the name of the place, where the 
Duke would have carriei all before him, and brought Marshal 
Saxe, and all his frog-eaters prisoners to England, had our 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


15 


Butch and German allies behaved better than they did. So 
it is with poor old England, gentlemen ; whatever she gains, 
her allies always hse for her — the Germans, or the colonists 
are constantly getting ns into trouble !” 

Both Sir Gervaise and his friend were practical men, and 
well knew that they never fought the Dutch or the French, 
without meeting with something that was pretty nearly their 
match. They had no faith in general national superiority. 
The courts-martial that so often succeeded general actions, had 
taught them that there were all degrees of spirit, as well as 
all degrees of a w^ant of spirit ; and they knew too much, to be 
the dupes of flourishes of the pen, or of vapid declamation at 
dinner-speeches, and in the House of Commons. Men, well 
led and commanded, they had ascertained by experience, were 
worth twice as much as the same men when ill led and ill 
commanded ; and they were not to be told that the moral tone 
of an army or a fleet, from which all its success was derived, 
depended more on the conventional feeling that had been got 
up through moral agencies, than on birth-place, origin, or 
colour. Each glanced his eye significantly at the other, and a 
sarcastic smile passed over the face of Sir Gervaise, though 
his friend maintained his customary appearance of gravity. 

“ I believe le Grand Monarque and Marshal Saxe give a 
different account of that matter. Sir Wycherly,” drily observed 
the former ; “ and it may be w’ell to remember that there are 
two sides to every story. Whatever may be said of Dettingen, 
I fancy history will set down Fontenoi as any thing but a 
feather in His Royal Highness’ cap.” 

“ You surely do not consider it possible for the French arms 
to overthrow a British army. Sir Gervaise Oakes !” exclaimed 
the simple-minded provincial — for such was Sir Wycherly 
Wychecombe, though he had sat in parliament, had four thou- 
sand a year, and was one of the oldest families in England — 
“ It sounds like treason to admit the possibility of such a thing.” 


76 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ God bless us, my dear sir, I am as far from supposing 
any such thing, as the Duke of Cumberland himself; who, 
by the way, has as much English blood in his veins, as the 
Baltic may have of the water of the Mediterranean — hey I 
Atwood ? By the way. Sir Wycherly, I must ask a little 
tenderness of you in behalf of my friend the secretary, here, 
who has a national weakness in favour of the Pretender, and 
all of the clan Stuart.” 

“ I hope not-^I sincerely hope not, Sir Gervaise !” ex- 
claimed Sir Wycherly, Avith a warmth that was not entirely 
free from alarm ; his own loyalty to the new house being alto- 
gether without reproach. “Mr. Atwood has the air of a 
gentleman of too good principles not to see on which side real 
religious and political liberty lie. I am sure you are pleased 
to be jocular. Sir Gervaise ; the very circumstance that he is 
in your company is a pledge of his loyalty.” 

“Well, well. Sir Wycherly, I would not give you a false 
idea of my friend Atwood, if possible ; and so I may as well 
confess, that, while his Scotch blood inclines him to toryism, his 
English reason makes him a whig. If Charles Stuart never 
gets the throne until Stephen Atwood helps him to a seat on 
it, he may take leave of ambition for ever.” 

“ I thought as much, Sir Gervaise — I thought your secre- 
tary could never lean to the doctrine of ‘ passive obedience and 
non-resistance.’ That’s a principle which would hardly suit 
sailors. Admiral Blue water.” 

Admiral Bluewater’s fine, full, blue eye, lighted wfith an 
expression approaching irony ; but he made no other answer 
than a slight inclination of the head. In point of fact, he w^as 
a Jacobite ; though no one was acquainted with the circum- 
stance but his immediate commanding officer. As a seaman, 
he was called on only to serve his country ; and, as often 
happens to miJtary men, he was willing to do this under any 
superior whom circumstances might place over his head, let 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


11 


his private sentiments be what they might. During the civil 
war of 1715, he was too young in years, and too low in rank, 
to render his opinions of much importance ; and, kept on 
foreign stations, his services could only affect the general in- 
terests of the nation, without producing any influence on the 
contest at home. Since that period, nothing had occurred to 
require one, whose duty kept him on the ocean, to come to a 
very positive decision between the two masters that claimed his 
allegiance. Sir Gervaise had always been able to persuade 
him that he was sustaining the honour and interests of his 
country, and that ought to be sufficient to a patriot, let who 
w’ould rule. Notwithstanding this wide diflerence in political 
feeling betw^een the two admirals — Sir Gervaise being as de- 
cided a whig, as his friend was a tory — their personal harmony 
had been without a shade. As to confidence, the superior 
knew the inferior so well, that he believed the surest way to 
prevent his taking sides openly with the Jacobites, or of doing 
them secret service, was to put it in his power to commit a 
great breach of trust. So long as faith were put in his integ- 
rity, Sir Gervaise felt certain his friend Bluewater might be 
relied on ; and he also knew that, should the moment ever 
come when the other really intended to abandon the service 
of the house of Hanover, he would frankly throw up his em- 
ployments, and join the hostile standard, without profiting, in 
any manner, by the trusts he had previously enjoyed. It is 
also necessary that the reader should understand that Admiral 
Bluewater had never communicated his political opinions to 
any person but his friend ; the Pretender and his counsellors 
being as ignorant of them, as George II. and his ministers. 
The only practical effect, therefore, that they had ever pro- 
duced was to induce him to decline separate commands, seve- 
ral of which had been offered to him ; one, quite equal to that 
enjoyed by Sir Gervaise Oakes, himself. 

7 * 


78 


THE TWO admirals. 


“ No,” the latter answered to Sir Wycherly’s remark ; 
though the grave, thoughtful expression of his face, showed 
how little his feelings chimed in, at the moment, with the 
ironical language of his tongue. “ No— Sir Wycherly, a man- 
of-war’s man, in particular, has not the slightest idea of 
‘passive obedience and non-resistance,’ — that is a doctrine 
which is intelligible only to papists and tories. Bluewater is 
in a brown study ; thinking no doubt of the manner in which 
he intends to lead down on Monsieur de Gravelin, should we 
ever have the luck to meet that gentleman again ; so we will, 
if it’s agreeable to all parties, change the subject.” 

“ With all my heart, Sir Gervaise,” answered the baronet, 
cordially ; “ and, after all, there is little use in discussing the 
affair of the Pretender any longer, for he appears to be quite 
out of men’s minds, since that last failure of King Louis XV.” 

“ Yes, Norris rather crushed the young viper in its shell, 
and we may consider the thing at an end.” 

“ So my late brother, Baron Wychecombe, always treated 
it. Sir Gervaise. He once assured me that the twelve judges 
were clearly against the claim, and that the Stuarts had 
nothing to expect from themT 

“ Did he tell you, sir, on what ground these learned gen- 
tlemen had come to this decision ?” quietly asked Admiral 
Bluewater. 

“ He did, indeed ; for he knew my strong desire to make 
out a good case against the tories so well, that he laid all the 
law before me. I am a bad hand, liowever, to repeat even 
what I hear ; though my poor brother, the late Rev. James 
Wychecombe — St. James as I used to call him — could go over 
a discourse half an hour long, and not miss a word. Thomas 
and James appear to have run away with the memories of the 
rest of the family. Nevertheless, I recollect it all depended 
on an act of Parliament, which is supreme ; and the house of 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


79 


Hanover reigning by an act of Parliament, no court could set 
aside the claim.” 

“ Very clearly explained, sir,” continued Blue water ; “ and 
you will permit me to say that there was no necessity for an 
apology on account of the memory. Your brother, however, 
might not have exactly explained what an act of Parliament 
is. King, Lords, and Commons, are all necessary to an act of 
Parliament.” 

“ Certainly — we all know that, my dear admiral ; we poor 
fellows ashore here, as well as you mariners at sea. The 
Hanoverian succession had all three to authorize it.” 

“ Had it a king ?” 

“ A king ! Out of dispute — or what we bachelors ought 
to consider as much better, it had a queen, Q,ueen Anne ap- 
proved of the act, and that made it an act of Parliament. I 
assure you, I learned a good deal of law in the Baron’s visits 
to Wychecombe ; and in the pleasant hours we used to chat 
together in his chambers !” 

“ And who signed the act of Parliament that made Anne a 
queen ? or did she ascend the throne by regular succession ? 
Both Mary and Anne were sovereigns by acts of Parliament, 
and we must look back until we get the approval of a prince 
who took the crown by legal descent.” 

“ Come — come, Bluewater,” put in Sir Gervaise, gravely ; 
“ we may persuade Sir Wycherly, in this manner, that he has 
a couple of furious Jacobites in company. The Stuarts were 
dethroned by a revolution, which is a law of nature, and 
enacted by God, and which of course overshadows all other 
laws when it gets into the ascendant, as it clearly has done in 
this case. I take it. Sir Wycherly, these are your park-gates, 
and that yonder is the Hall.” 

This remark changed the discourse, and the whole party 
proceeded towards the house, discussing the beauty of its posi- 
tion, its history, and its advantages, until they reached its door. 


CHAPTER V. 


“Monarch and ministers, are awful names: 

Whoever wear them, challenge our devoir.” 

Yocno. 

Our plan does not require an elaborate description of the 
residence of Sir Wycherly. The house had been neither priory, 
abbey, nor castle ; but it was erected as a dwelling for him- 
self and his posterity, by a Sir Michael Wychecombe, two or 
three centuries before, and had been kept in good serviceable 
condition ever since. It had the usual long, narrow windows, 
a suitable hall, wainscoted rooms, battlemented walls, and 
turreted angles. It was neither large, nor small ; handsome, 
nor ugly ; grand, nor mean ; but it was quaint, respectable in 
appearance, and comfortable as an abode. 

The admirals were put each in possession of bed-chambers 
and dressing-rooms, as soon as they arrived ; and Atwood was 
berthed not far from his commanding-officer, in readiness for 
service, if required. Sir Wycherly was naturally hospitable ; 
but his retired situation had given him a zest for company, that 
greatly increased the inborn disposition. Sir Gervaise, it was 
understood, was to pass the night with him, and he entertained 
strong hopes of including his friend in the same arrangement. 
Beds were ordered, too, for Dutton, his wife, and daughter ; 
and his namesake, the lieutenant, v as expected also to sleep 
under his roof, that night. 

The day passed in the customary manner ; the party hav- 
ing breakfasted, and then separated to attend to their several 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


81 


occupations, agreeably to the usages of all country houses, in 
all parts of the world, and, we believe, in all time. Sir Ger- 
vaise, who had sent a messenger off to the Plantagenet for 
certain papers, spent the morning in writing ; Admiral Blue- 
W’ater walked in the park, by himself ; Atwood was occupied 
with his superior ; Sir Wycherly rode among his labourers ; 
and Tom Wychecombe took a rod, and pretended to go forth 
to fish, though he actually held his way back to the head-land, 
lingering in and around the cottage until it was time to return 
home. At the proper hour. Sir Wycherly sent his chariot for 
the ladies ; and a few minutes before the appointed moment, 
the party began to assemble in the drawing-room. 

When Sir Wycherly appeared, he found the Duttons already 
in possession, with Tom doing the honours of the house. Of 
the sailing-master and his daughter, it is unnecessary to say 
more than that the former was in his best uniform — an ex- 
ceedingly plain one, as was then the case with the whole naval 
wardrobe — and that the last had recovered from her illness, as 
was evident by the bloom that the sensitive blushes constantly 
cast athwart her lovely face. Her attire was exactly what it 
ought to have been ; neat, simple, and becoming. In honour 
of the host, she wore her best ; but this was what became her 
station, though a little jewelry that rather surpassed what 
might have been expected in a girl of her rank of life, threw 
around her person an air of modest elegance. Mrs. Dutton 
was a plain, matronly woman — the daughter of a land-steward 
of a nobleman in the same county — with an air of great 
mental suflering, from griefs she had never yet exposed to the 
heartless sympathy of the world. 

The baronet was so much in the habit of seeing his humble 
neighbours, that an intimacy had grown up between them. 
Sir Wycherly, who w'as any thing but an acute observer, felt 
an interest in the melancholy-looking, and almost heart-broken 


82 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


mother, without knowing why ; or certainly without suspecting 
the real character of her habitual sadness ; while Mildred’s 
youth and beauty had not failed of producing the customary 
efiect of making a friend of the old bachelor. He shook hands 
all round, therefore, with great cordiality ; expressing his joy 
at meeting Mrs. Dutton, and congratulating the daughter on 
her complete recovery. 

“ I see Tom has been attentive to his duty,” he added, 
“ while I’ve been detained by a silly fellow about a complaint 
against a poacher. My namesake, young Wycherly, has not 
got back yet, though it is quite two hours past his time ; and 
Mr. Atw'ood tells me the admiral is a little uneasy about his 
despatches. I tell him Mr. Wycherly Wychecombe, though I 
have not the honour of ranking him among my relatives, and 
he is only a Virginian by birth, is a young man to be relied on ; 
and that the despatches are safe, let what may detain the 
courier.” 

“ And why should not a Virginian be every way as trust- 
worthy and prompt as an Englishman, Sir Wycherly ?” asked 
Mrs. Dutton. “ He is an Englishman, merely separated from 
us by the water.” 

This was said mildly, or in the manner of one accustomed 
to speak under a rebuked feeling ; but it was said earnestly, 
and perhaps a little reproachfully, while the speaker’s eye 
glanced with natural interest towards the beautiful face of her 
daughter. 

“ Why not, sure enough, my dear Mrs. Dutton !” echoed the 
baronet. “ They are Englishmen, like ourselves, only born 
out of the realm, as it might be, and no doubt a little different 
on that account. They are fellow'-subjects, Mrs. Dutton, and 
that is a great deal. Then they are miracles of loyalty, 
there being scarcely a Jacobite, as they tell me, in all the 
colonies.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


83 


“ Mr. Wycherly Wycheoombe is a very respectable young 
gentleman,” said Dutton ; “ and I hear he is a prime seaman 
for his years. He has not the honour of being related to this 
distinguished family, like Mr. Thomas, here, it is true ; but he 
is likely to make a name for himself. Should he get a ship, 
and do as handsome things in her, as he has done already. His 
Majesty would probably knight him ; and then we should have 
two Sir Wycherly Wychecombes !” 

“ I hope not — I hope not !” exclaimed the baronet ; “ I think 
there must be a law against that. As it is, I shall be obliged 
to put Bart, after my name, as my worthy grandfather used to 
do, in order to prevent confusion ; but England can’t bear two 
Sir Wycherlys, any more than the world can bear two suns. 
Is not that your opinion. Miss Mildred ?” 

The baronet had laughed at his own allusion, showing he 
spoke half jocularly ; but, as his question was put in too direct 
a manner to escape general attention, the confused girl was 
obliged to answer. 

“ I dare say Mr. Wychecombe will never reach a rank high 
enough to cause any such difficulty,” she said ; and it was said 
in all sincerity ; for, unconsciously perhaps, she secretly hoped 
that no difference so wide might ever be created between the 
youth and herself. “ If he should, I suppose his rights would 
bo as good as another’s, and he must keep his name.” 

“ In such a case, which is improbable enough, as Miss 
Mildred has so well observed,” put in Tom Wychecombe, “ we 
should have to submit to the knighthood^ for that comes from 
the king, who might knight a chimney-sweep, if he see fit ; 
but a question might be raised as to the name. It is bad 
enough as it is ; but if it really got to be two Sir Wycherlys, I 
think my dear uncle would be wrong to submit to such an 
invasion of what one might call his individuality, without 
making some inquiry as to the right of the gentleman to one 


84 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


or both his names. The result might show that the king had 
made a Sir Something Nobody.” 

■ The sneer and spite with which this was uttered, were too 
marked to escape notice ; and both Dutton and his wife felt it 
would be unpleasant to mingle farther in the discourse. Still 
the last, submissive, rebuked, and heart-broken as she was, felt 
a glow on her own pale cheek, as she saw the colour mount 
in the face of Mildred, and she detected the strong impulses 
that urged the generous girl herself to answer. 

“ We have now known Mr. Wychecombe several months,” 
observed Mildred, fastening her full, blue eye calmly on Tom’s 
sinister-looking face ; “ and we have never known any thing 
to cause us to think he would bear a name — or names — that 
he does not at least think he has a right to.” 

This w^as said gently, but so distinctly, that every word 
entered fairly into Tom Wychecombe’s soul ; who threw a 
quick, suspicious glance at the lovely speaker, as if to ascertain 
how far she intended any allusion to himself Meeting with 
no other expression than that of generous interest, he recovered 
his self-command, and made his reply with sufficient coolness. 

“ Upon my word, Mrs. Dutton,” he cried, laughing ; “ w'c 
young men will all of us have to get over the cliffy and hang 
dangling at the end of a rope, in order to awaken an interest 
in Miss Mildred, to defend us when our backs are turned. So 
eloquent — and most especially, so lovely, so charming an ad- 
vocate, is almost certain of success ; and my uncle and myself 
must admit the absent gentleman’s right to our name ; though, 
heaven be praised, he has not yet got either the title or the 
estate.” 

“ I hope I have said nothing, Sir Wycherly, to displease 
you^ returned Mildred, with emphasis ; though her face was 
a thousand times handsomer than ever, with the blushes that 
suffused it. “ Nothing would pain me more, than to suppose 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


85 


I had done so improper a thing. I merely meant that we 
cannot believe Mr. Wycherly Wychecomhe would willingly 
take a name he had no right to.” 

“ My little dear,” said the baronet, taking the hand of the 
distressed girl, and kissing her cheek, as he had often done 
before, with fatherly tenderness ; “ it is not an easy matter for 
you to offend me; and I’m sure the young fellow is quite 
welcome to both my names, if you wish him to have ’em.” 

“ And I merely meant. Miss Mildred,” resumed Tom, who 
feared he might have gone too far ; “ that the young gentle- 
man — quite without any fault of his own — is probably ignorant 
how he came by two names that have so long pertained to the 
head of an ancient and honourable family. There is many a 
young man born, who is worthy of being an earl, but whom 
the law considers — ” here Tom paused to choose terms suitable 
for his auditor, when the baronet added, 

“ A Jilius nullius — that’s the phrase, Tom — I had it from 
your own father’s mouth.” 

Tom Wychecomhe started, and looked furtively around 
him, as if to ascertain who suspected the truth. Then he con- 
tinued, anxious to regain the ground he feared he had lost in 
Mildred’s favour. 

“ Filius nullim means. Miss Mildred, exactly what I wish 
to express ; a family without any legal origin. They tell me, 
however, that in the colonies, nothing is more common than 
for people to take the names of the great families at home, and 
after a while they fancy themselves related.” 

“ I never heard Mr. Wycherly Wychecomhe say a word to 
lead us to suppose that he was, in any manner, connected with 
this family, sir,” returned Mildred, calmly, but quite distinctly. 

“ Did you ever hear him say he was not, Miss Mildred ?” 

“ I cannot say I ever did, Mr. Wychecomhe. It is a sub- 
ject that has seldom been introduced in my hearing.” 

8 


86 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ But it has often been introduced in his ! I declare, Sir 
Wycherly, it has struck me as singular, that while you and 
I have so very frequently stated in the presence of this gentle- 
man, that our families are in no way connected, he has never, 
in any manner, not even by a nod or a look of approbation, 
assented to what he must certainly know to be the case. But 
I suppose, like a true colonist, he was unwilling to give up his 
hold on the old stock.” 

Here the entrance of Sir Gervaise Oakes changed the dis- 
course. The vice-admiral joined the party in good spirits, as 
is apt to be the case with men who have been much occupied 
with affairs of moment, and who meet relaxation with a con- 
sciousness of having done their duty. 

“ If one could take with him to sea, the comforts of such a 
house as this. Sir Wycherly, and such handsome faces as yoiir 
own, young lady,” cried Sir Gervaise, cheerfully, after he had 
made his salutations ; “ there would be an end of our exclu- 
siveness, for every petit maitre of Paris and London would turn 
sailor, as a matter of course. Six months in the Bay of Biscay 
gives an old fellow, like myself, a keen relish for these enjoy- 
ments, as hunger makes any meat palatable ; though I am far, 
very far, indeed, from putting this house or this company, on 
a level with an indifferent feast, even for an epicure.” 

“ Such as it is. Sir Gervaise, the first is quite at your ser- 
vice, in all things,” rejoined the host ; “ and the last will do 
all in its power to make itself agreeable.” 

“ Ah — here comes Blue water to echo all I have said and 
feel. I am telling Sir Wycherly and the ladies, of the satisfac- 
tion we grampuses experience when we get berthed under such 
a roof as this, with woman’s sweet face to throw a gleam of 
happiness around her.” 

Admiral Bluewater had already saluted the mother, but 
when his eye fell on the face and person of Mildred, it was 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


87 


riveted, for an instant, with an earnestness and intentness of 
surprise and admiration that all noted, though no one saw fit to 
comment on it. 

“ Sir Gervaise is so established an admirer of the sex,” said 
the rear-admiral, recovering himself, after a pause ; “ that I am 
never astonished at any of his raptures. Salt water has the 
usual effect on him, however ; for I have now known him 
longer than he might wish to be reminded of, and yet the only 
mistress who can keep him true, is his ship.” 

“ And to that I believe I may be said to be constant. I 
don’t know how it is with you, Sir Wycherly, but every thing 
I am accustomed to I like. Now, here I have sailed with both 
these gentlemen, until I should as soon think of going to sea 
without a binnacle, as to go to sea without ’em both — hey ! 
Atwood ? Then, as to the ship, my flag has been flying in the 
Plantagenet these ten years, and I can’t bear to give the old 
craft up, though Bluewater, here, would have turned her over 
to an inferior after three years’ service. I tell all the young 
men they don’t stay long enough in any one vessel to find out 
her good qualities. I never was in a slow ship yet.” 

“ For the simple reason that you never get into a fast one, 
that you do not wear her fairly out, before you give her up. 
The Plantagenet, Sir Wycherly, is the fastest two-decker in His 
Majesty’s service, and the vice-admiral knows it too well to let 
any of us get foot in her, while her timbers will hang together.” 

“ Let it be so, if you will ; it only shows. Sir Wycherly, 
that I do not choose my friends for their bad qualities. But, 
allow me to ask, young lady, if you happen to know a certain 
Mr. Wycherly Wychecombe — a namesake, but no relative, I 
understand, of our respectable host — and one who holds a 
commission in His Majesty’s service ?” 

“ Certainly, Sir Gervaise,” answered Mildred, dropping her 
eyes to the floor, and trembling, though she scarce knew why ; 


88 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Mr. Wychecombe has been about here, now, for some months, 
and we all know something of him.” 

“ Then, perhaps you can tell me whether he is generally a 
loiterer on duty. I do not inquire w'hether he is a laggard in 
his duty to you, but whether, mounted on a good hunter, he 
could get over twenty miles, in eight or ten hours, for instance ?” 

“ I think Sir Wycherly would tell you that he could, sir.” 

“ He may be a Wychecombe, Sir Wycherly, but he is no 
Plantagenet, in the way of sailing. Surely the young gentle- 
man ought to have returned some hours since !” 

“ It’s quite surprising to me that he is not back before 
this,” returned the kind-hearted baronet. “ He is active, and 
understands himself, and there is not a better horseman in the 
county — is there, Miss Mildred ?” 

Mildred did not think it necessary to reply to this direct 
appeal ; but spite of the manner in which she had been en- 
deavouring to school her feelings, since the accident on the cliff, 
she could not prevent the deadly paleness that dread of some 
accident had produced, or the rush of colour to her cheeks that 
followed from the unexpected question of Sir Wycherly. Turn- 
ing to conceal her confusion, she met the eye of Tom Wyche- 
combe riveted on her face, with an expression so sinister, that 
it caused her to tremble. Fortunately, at this moment. Sir 
Gervaise turned away, and drawing near his friend, on the 
other side of the large apartment, he said in an under tone — 

“ Luckily, Atwood has brought ashore a duplicate of my 
despatches, Bluewater, and if this dilatory gentleman does not 
return by the time we have dined, I will send off a second 
courier. The intelligence is too important to be trifled with ; 
and after having brought the fleet north, to be in readiness to 
serve the state in this emergency, it would be rare folly to leave 
the ministry in ignorance of the reasons why I have done it.” 

“ Nevertheless, they w'ould be almost as well-informed, as 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


89 


I am myself,” returned the rear-admiral, with a little point, 
but quite without any bitterness of manner. “ The only ad- 
vantage I have over them is that I do know where the fleet 
is, which is more than the First Lord can boast of.” 

“ True — I had forgot, my friend — but you must feel that 
there is a subject on which I had better not consult you. I 
have received some important intelligence, that my duty, as a 
commander-in-chief, renders it necessary I should — ^keep to 
myself.” 

Sir Gervaise laughed as he concluded, though he seemed 
vexed and embarrassed. Admiral Bluewater betrayed neither 
chagrin, nor disappointment ; but strong, nearly ungovernable 
curiosity, a feeling from which he was singularly exempt in 
general, glowed in his eyes, and lighted his whole countenance. 
Still, habitual submission to his superior, auvl the self-command 
of discipline, enabled him to wait for any thing more that his 
friend might communicate. At this moment, the door opened, 
and Wycherly entered the room, in the state in which he had 
just dismounted. It w^as necessary to throw but a single 
glance at his hurried manner, and general appearance, to know 
that he had something of importance to communicate, and Sir 
Gervaise made a sign for him not to speak. 

“ This is public service. Sir Wycherly,” said the vice-ad- 
miral, “ and I hope you will excuse us for a .few minutes. 1 
beg this good company will be seated at table, as soon as din- 
ner is served, and that you will treat us as old friends — as I 
should treat you, if we were on board the Plantagenet. Ad- 
miral Bluewater, will you be of our conference ?” 

Nothing more was said until the two admirals and the 
young lieutenant were in the dressing-room of Sir Gervaise 
Oakes. Then the latter turned, and addressed Wycherly, with 
the manner of a superior. 

. “I should have met you with a reproof, for this delay, young 

8 * 


90 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


gentleman;” he commenced, “ did I not suspect, from your 
appearance, that something of moment has occurred to produce 
it. Had the mail passed the market- town, before you reached 
it, sir ?” 

“ It had not, Admiral Oakes and I have the satisfaction 
of knowing that your despatches are now several hours on their 
way to London. I reached the office just in season to see them 
mailed.” 

“ Humph ! On board the Plantagenet, it is the custom for 
an officer to report any important duty done, as soon as it is 
in a condition to be thus laid before the superior !” 

“ I presume that is the usage in all His Majesty’s ships, 
Sir Gervaise Oakes ; but I have been taught that a proper 
discretion, when it does not interfere with positive orders, and 
sometimes when it does, is a surer sign of a useful officer, than 
even the most slavish attention to rules.” 

“ That is a just distinction, young gentleman, though safer 
in the hands of a captain, perhaps, than in those of a lieuten- 
ant,” returned the vice-admiral, glancing at his friend, though 
he secretly admired the youth’s spirit. “ Discretion is a com- 
parative term ; meaning different things with different per- 
sons. May I presume to ask what Mr. Wycherly Wyche- 
combe calls discretion, in the present instance ?” 

“ You have every right, sir, to know, and I only wanted 
your permission to tell my whole story. While waiting to see 
the London mail start with your' despatches, and to rest my 
horse, a post-chaise arrived that was carrying a gentleman, 
who is suspected of being a Jacobite, to his country-seat, some 
thirty miles further west. This gentleman held a secret con- 
ference with another person of the same way of thinking as 
himself; and there was so much running and sending of 
messages, that I could not avoid suspecting something was in 
the w'ind. Going to the stable to look after Sir Wycherly’s 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


91 


hunter, for I knew how much he values the animal, I found 
one of the stranger’s servants in discourse with the ostler. 
The latter told me, when the chaise had gone, that great 
tidings had reached Exeter, before the travellers quitted the 
town. These tidings he described as news that ‘ Charley was 
no longer over the water.’ It was useless. Sir Gervaise, to 
question one so stupid ; and, at the inn, though all observed 
the manner of the traveller and his visiter, no one could tell 
me any thing positive. Under the circumstances, therefore, I 
threw myself into the return chaise, and went as far as Fowey, 
wdiere I met the important intelligence that Prince Charles 
has actually landed, and is at this moment up, in Scotland I” 

“ The Pretender is then really once more aihong us !” ex- 
claimed Sir Gervaise, like one who had half suspected the 
truth. 

“Not the Pretender, Sir Gervaise, as I understand the 
news ; but his young son. Prince Charles Edward, one much 
more likely to give the kingdom trouble. The fact is certain, 
I believe ; and as it struck me that it might be important to 
the commander of so fine a fleet as this which lies under 
Wychecombe Head, to know it, I lost no time in getting back 
with the intelligence.” 

“ You have done well, young gentleman, and have proved 
that discretion is quite as useful and respectable in a lieuten- 
ant, as it can possibly prove to be in a full admiral of the white. 
Go, now, and make yourself fit to take a seat by the side of one 
of the sweetest girls in England, where I shall expect to see you, 
in fifteen minutes. Well, Bluewater,” he continued, as soon as 
the door closed on Wycherly ; “ this is news, of a certainty !” 

“ It is, indeed ; and I take it to be the news, or connected 
with the news, that you have sent to the First Lord, in the 
late despatches. It has not taken you altogether by surprise, 
if the truth were said ?” 


92 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ It has not, I confess. You know what excellent intelli- 
gence we have had, the past season, from the Bordeaux agent ; 
he sent me off such proofs of this intended expedition, that 1 
thought it advisable to bring the fleet north on the strength of 
it, that the ships might be used as the ' exigency should 
require.” 

“ Thank God, it is a long way to Scotland, and it is not 
probable we can reach the coast of that country until all is 
over ! I wish we had inquired of this young man with w'hat 
sort of, and how large a naval force the prince was accom- 
panied with. Shall I send for him, that we may put the 
question ?” 

“ It is better that you remain passive. Admiral Bluewater. 
I now promise you that you shall learn all I hear ; and 
that, under the circumstances, I think ought to content 
you.” 

The two admirals now separated, though neither returned 
to the company for some little time. The intelligence they 
had just learned was too important to be lightly received, and 
each of these veteran seamen paced his room, for near a quar- 
ter of an hour, reflecting on what might he the probable con- 
sequences to the country and to himself. Sir Gervaise Oakes 
expected some event of this nature, and was less taken by sur- 
prise than his friend ; still he viewed the crisis as exceedingly 
serious, and as one likely to destroy the prosperity of the na- 
tion, as well as the peace of families. There was then in 
England, as there is to-day, and as there probably will he 
throughout all time, two parties ; one of which clung to the 
past with its hereditary and exclusive privileges, while the 
other looked more towards change for anticipated advantages, 
and created honours. Religion, in that age, was made the 
stalking-horse of politicians ; as is liberty on one side, and 
order on the other, in our own times ; and men just as blindly, 


THE TWO admirals. 


93 


as vehemently, and as regardlessly of principle, submitted to 
party in the middle of the eighteenth century, as we know 
they do in the middle of the nineteenth. The mode of acting 
was a little changed, and the watchwords and rallying points 
were not exactly the same, it is true ; but, in all that relates 
to ignorant confidence, ferocious denunciation, and selfishness 
but half concealed under the cloak of patriotism, the England 
of the original whigs and tories, was the England of conserva- 
tism and reform, and the America of 1776, the America of 
1841. 

Still thousands always act, in political struggles, with the 
fairest intentions, though they act in bitter opposition to each 
other. When prejudice becomes the stimulant of ignorance, 
no other result may be hoped for ; and the experience of the 
world, in the management of human affairs, has left the up- 
right and intelligent, but one conclusion as the reward of all 
the pains and penalties with which political revolutions have 
been effected — the conviction that no institutions can be in- 
vented, which a short working does not show will be perverted 
from their original intention, by the ingenuity of those en- 
trusted with power. In a word, the physical constitution 
of man does not more infallibly tend to decrepitude and imbe- 
cility, imperiously requiring a new being, and a new existence, 
to fulfil the objects of his creation, than the moral constitu- 
tions which are the fruits of his wisdom, contain the seeds of 
abuses and decay, that human selfishness will be as certain to 
cultivate, as human indulgence is to aid the course of nature, 
in hastening the approaches of death. Thus, while on the one 
hand, there exists the constant incentive of abuses and hopes 
to induce us to wish for modifications of the social structure, 
on the other there stands the experience of ages to demonstrate 
their insufficiency to produce the happiness wo aim at. If 
the world advances in civilization and humanity, it is because 


94 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


knowledge will produce its fruits in every soil, and undei 
every condition of cultivation and improvement. 

Both Sir Gervaise Oakes and Admiral Bluewater believed 
themselves to be purely governed by principles, in submitting 
to the bias that each felt towards the conflicting claims of the 
houses of Brunswick and Stuart. Perhaps no two men in 
England were in fact less influenced by motives that they 
ought to feel ashamed to own ; and yet, as has been seen, 
while they thought so much alike on most other things, on 
this they w’ere diametrically opposed to each other. During 
the many years of arduous and delicate duties that they had 
served together, jealousy, distrust, and discontent had been 
equally strangers to their bosoms ; for each had ever felt the 
assurance that his own honour, happiness, and interests were 
as much ruling motives with his friend, as they could well be 
with himself. Their lives had been constant scenes of mutual 
but unpretending kindnesses ; and this under circumstances 
that naturally awakened all the most generous and manly 
sentiments of their natures. When young men, their laughing 
messmates had nick-named them Pylades and Orestes ; and 
later in life, on account of their cruising so much in company, 
they were generally known in the navy as the “ twin 
captains.” On several occasions had they fought enemies’ 
frigates, and captured them ; on these occasions, as a matter 
of course, the senior of the two became most known to the na- 
tion ; but Sir Gervaise had made the most generous efforts to 
give his junior a full share of the credit, while Captain Blue- 
water never spoke of the affairs without mentioning them as 
victories of the commodore. In a word, on all occasions, and 
under all circumstances, it appeared to be the aim of these 
generous-minded and gallant seamen, to serve each other ; nor 
was this attempted with any effort, or striving for effect ; all 
that was said, or done, coming naturally and spontaneously 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


95 


from tlie heart. But, for the first time in their lives, events 
had now occurred which threatened a jarring of the feelings 
between them, if they did not lead to acts which must inevita- 
bly place them in open and declared hostility to each other. 
No wonder, then, that both looked at the future with gloomy 
forebodings, and a distrust, which, if it did not render them 
unhappy, at least produced uneasine{5s. 


CHAPTER VI. 


rV 


‘»The circle form’d, we sit in silent state, 

Like figures drawn upon a dial-plate ; 

Yes ma’am, and no ma’am, uttered softly show, 

Every five minutes, how the minutes go.” 

OoWTER. 


It is scarcely necessary to tell the reader that England, as 
regarded material civilization, was a very different country a 
hundred years since, from what it is to-day. We are writing 
of an age of heavy wagons, coaches and six, post-chaises and 
four ; and not of an era of MacAdam-roads, or of cars flying 
along by steam. A man may now post down to a country- 
house, some sixty or eighty miles, to dinner ; and this, too, by 
the aid of only a pair of horses ; but, in 1745 such an engage- 
ment would have required at least a start on the previous day; 
and, in many parts of the island, it would have been safer to 
have taken two days’ grace. Scotland was then farther from 
Devonshire, in effect, than Geneva is now ; and news travelled 
slowly, and with the usual exaggerations and uncertainties of 
delay. It was no wonder, then, that a Jacobite who was 
posting off to his country-house — the focus of an English land- 
lord’s influence and authority — filled with intelligence that had 
reached him through the activity of zealous political partisans, 
preceded the more regular tidings of the mail, by several hours. 
The little that had escaped this individual, or his servants 
rather, for the gentleman was tolerably discreet himself, con- 
fiding in only one or two particular friends at each relay, had 
not got out to the world, either very fully, or very clearly. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


97 


Wycherly had used intelligence in making his inquiries, and 
he had observed an officer’s prudence in keeping his news for 
the ears of his superior alone. When Sir Gervaise joined the 
party in the drawing-room, therefore, he saw that Sir Wych- 
crly knew nothing of what had occurred at the north ; and he 
intended the glance which he directed at the lieutenant to 
convey a hearty approval of his discretion. This forbearance 
did more to raise the young officer in the opinion of the prac- 
tised and thoughtful admiral, than the gallantry with which 
the youth had so recently purchased his commission ; for while 
many were brave, few had the self-command, and prudence, 
under circumstances like the present, that alone can make a 
man safe in the management of important public interests. 
The approbation that Sir Gervaise felt, and which he desired 
to manifest, for Wycherly’s prudence, was altogether a princi- 
ple, however ; since there existed no sufficient reason for keep- 
ing the secret from as confirmed a whig as his host. On the 
contrary, the sooner those opinions, which both of them would 
be apt to term sound, were promulgated in the neighbourhood, 
the better it might prove for the good cause. The vice-admiral, 
therefore, determined to communicate himself, as soon as the 
party was seated at table, the very secret which he so much 
commended the youth for keeping. Admiral Bluewater joining 
the company, at this instant. Sir Wycherly led Mrs. Dutton to 
the table. No alteration had taken place among the guests, 
except that Sir Gervaise wore the red riband ; a change in 
his dress that his friend considered to be openly hoisting the 
standard of the house of Hanover. 

“ One would not think. Sir Wycherly,” commenced the 
vice-admiral, glancing his eyes around him, as soon as all were 
seated ; “ that this good company has taken its place at your 
hospitable table, in the midst of a threatened civil war, if not 
of an actual revolution. ” 

9 


98 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Every hand was arrested, and every eye turned tow^ards the 
speaker ; even Admiral Bluewater earnestly regarding his 
friend, anxious to know what would come next. 

“I believe my household is in due subjection,” answered 
Sir Wycherly, gazing to the right and left, as if he expected to 
see his butler heading a revolt ; “ and I fancy the only change 
we shall see to-day, will be the removal of the courses, and the 
appearance of their successors.” 

“Ay, so says the hearty, comfortable Devonshire baronet, 
while seated at his own board, favoured by abundance and 
warm friends. But it would seem the snake was only scotched ; 
not killed.” 

“ Sir Gervaise Oakes has grown figurative ; with his 
makes and sco^c/^ings,” observed the rear-admiral, a little 
drily. 

“ It is Scotch-m^, as you say with so much emphasis. Blue- 
water. I suppose. Sir Wycherly — I suppose, Mr. Dutton, and 
you, my pretty young lady — I presume all of you have heard 
of such a person as the Pretender ; — some of you may possibly 
have seen him.” 

Sir Wycherly now dropt his knife and fork, and sat gazing 
at the speaker in amazement. To him the Christian religion, 
the liberties of the subject — more especially of the baronet and 
lord of the manor, who had four thousand a year — and the 
Protestant succession, all seemed to be in sudden danger. 

“ I always told my brother, the judge — Mr. Baron Wychc- 
combe, who is dead and gone — that what between the French, 
that rogue the Pope, and the spurious olTspring of King James 
II., we should yet see troublesome times in England ! And 
now, sir, my predictions are verified !” 

“ Not as to England, yet, my good sir. Of Scotland I have 
not quite so good news to tell you ; as your namesake, here, 
brings us the tidings that the son of the Pretender has landed 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


99 


in that kingdom, and is rallying the clans. He has come un* 
attended by any Frenchmen, it would seem, and has thrown 
himself altogether on the misguided nobles and followers of his 
house.” 

“ ’Tis, at least, a chivalrous and princely act !” exclaimed 
Admiral Bluewater. 

“ Yes — inasmuch as it is a heedless and mad one. En- 
gland is not to be conquered by a rabble of half-dressed 
Scotchmen.” 

“ True ; but England may be conquered by England, not- 
withstanding.” 

Sir Gervaise now chose to remain silent, for never before 
had Bluewater come so near betraying his political bias, in the 
presence of third persons. This pause enabled Sir Wycherly 
to find his voice. 

“ Let me see, Tom,” said the baronet, “ fifteen and ten are 
twenty-five, and ten are thirty, and ten are forty-five — it is just 
thirty years since the Jacobites were up before ! It would 
seem that half a human life is not sufficient to fill the cravings 
of a Scotchman’s maw, for English gold.” 

“ Twice thirty years would hardly quell the promptings of 
a noble spirit, when his notions of justice showed him the way 
to the English throne,” observed Bluewater, coolly. “ For 
my part, I like the spirit of this young prince, for he who 
nobly dares, nobly deserves. What say you, my beautiful 
neighbour ?” 

“ If you mean to address me, sir, by that compliment,” an- 
swered Mildred, modestly, but with the emphasis that the 
gentlest of her sex are apt to use when they feel strongly ; “I 
must be suffered to say that I hope every Englishman wiU 
dare as nobly, and deserve as well in defence of his liberties.” 

“ Come — come, Bluewater,” interrupted Sir Gervaise, with 
a gravity that almost amounted to reproof ; “ I cannot permit 


100 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


such innuendoes before one so young and unpractised. The 
young lady might really suppose that His Majesty’s fleet was 
entrusted to men unworthy to enjoy his confidence, by the cool 
way in which you carry on the joke. I propose, now, Sir 
Wycherly, that we eat our dinner in peace, and say no more 
about this mad expedition, until the cloth is drawn, at least. 
It’s a long road to Scotland, and there is little danger that this 
adventurer will find his w'ay into Devonshire before the nuts 
are placed before us.” 

“ It would be nuts to us, if he did, Sir Gervaise,” put in 
Tom Wycherly, laughing heartily at his own wit. “ My uncle 
would enjoy nothing more than to see the spurious sovereign 
on his own estate, here, and in the hands of his own tenants. 
I think, sir, that Wychecombe and one or two of the adjoining 
manors, would dispose of him.” 

“ That might depend on circumstances,” the admiral an- 
swered, a little drily. “ These Scots have such a thing as a 
claymore, and are desperate fellows, they tell me, at a charge. 
The ver}’^ fact of arming a soldier with a short sword, shows a 
most bloody-minded disposition.” 

“ You forget. Sir Gervaise, that we have our Cornish hug, 
here in the west of England ; and I will put our fellows against 
any Scotch regiment that ever charged an enemy.” 

Tom laughed again at his own allusion to a proverbial mode 
of grappling, familiar to the adjoining county. 

“ This is all very well, Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, so long 
as Devonshire is in the west of England, and Scotland lies 
north of the Tweed. Sir Wycherly might as well leave the 
matter in the hands of the Duke and his regulars, if it were 
only in the way of letting every man follow his own trade.” 

“ It strikes me as so singularly insolent in a base-born boy 
like this, pretending to the English crown, that I can barely 
speak of him with patience ! We all know that his father was 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


101 


a changeling:, and the son of a changeling can have no more 
right than the father himself I do not remember what the 
law terms such pretenders; but I dare say it is something 
sufficiently odious.” 

“ Filius nullius, Thomas,” said Sir Wycherly, with a little 
eagerness to show his learning. “ That’s the very phrase. I 
have it from the first authority ; my late brother, Baron Wyche- 
combe, giving it to me with his own mouth, on an occasion that 
called for an understanding of such matters. The judge was 
a most accurate lawyer, particularly in all that related to 
names ; and I’ll engage, if he were living at this moment, he 
would tell you the legal appellation of a changeling ought to 
heJUius nulliusy 

In spite of his native impudence, and an innate determina- 
tion to make his way in the w'orld, without much regard to 
truth, Tom Wychecombe felt his cheek burn so much, at this 
innocent allusion of his reputed uncle, that he was actually 
obliged to turn away his face, in order to conceal his confusion. 
Had any moral delinquency of his own been implicated in the 
remark, he might have found means to steel himself against its 
consequences ; but, as is only too often the case, he was far 
more ashamed of a misfortune over which he had no possible 
control, than he would have been of a crime for which he was 
strictly responsible in morals. Sir Gervaise smiled at Sir Wych- 
erly’s knowledge of law terms, not to say of Latin ; and turning 
good-humouredly to his friend the rear-admiral, anxious to re- 
establish friendly relations with him, he said with well-con- 
cealed irony — 

“ Sir Wycherly must be right, Bluewater. A changeling is 
nobody — that is to say, he is not the body he pretends to be, 
which is substantially being nobody — and the son of nobody, 
is clearly diflius nullius. And now having settled what may 
be called the law of the case, I demand a truce, until we get 

9 * 


102 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


our nuts — for as to Mr. Thomas Wychecombe’s having his nut 
to crack, at least to-day, I take it there are too many loyal 
subjects in the north. ’ 

When men know each other as well as was the case with 
our two admirals, there are a thousand secret means of an- 
noyance, as well as of establishing amity. Admiral Bluewater 
was well aware that Sir Gervaise was greatly superior to the 
vulgar whig notion of the day, which believed in the fabricated 
tale of the Pretender’s spurious birth ; and the secret and ironi- 
cal allusion he had made to his impression on that subject, 
acted as oil to his own chafed spirit, disposing him to modera- 
tion. This had been the intention of the other ; and the smiles 
they exchanged, sufficiently proved that their usual mental 
intercourse was temporarily restored at least. 

Deference to his guests made Sir Wycherly consent to 
change the subject, though he was a little mystified with the 
obvious reluctance of the two admirals to speak of an enterprise 
that ought to be uppermost, according to his notion of the matter, 
in every Englishman’s mind. Tom had received a rebuke that 
kept him silent during the rest of the dinner ; while the others 
were content to eat and drink, as if nothing had happened. 

It is seldom that a party takes its seat at table without 
some secret manoeuvring, as to the neighbourhood, when the 
claims of rank and character do not interfere with personal 
wishes. Sir Wycherly had placed Sir Gervaise on his right 
and Mrs. Dutton on his left. But Admiral Bluewater had 
escaped from his control, and taken his seat next to Mildred, 
who had been placed by Tom Wychecombe close to himself, at 
the foot of the table. Wycherly occupied the seat opposite, 
and this compelled Dutton, and Mr. Rotherham, the vicar, to 
fill the other two chairs. The good baronet had made a wry 
face, at seeing a rear-admiral so unworthily bestowed ; but Sir 
Gervaise assuring him that his friend was never so happy as 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


103 


when in the service of beauty, he was fain to submit to the 
arrangement. 

That Admiral Bluewater was struck with Mildred’s beauty, 
and pleased with her natural and feminine manner, one alto- 
gether superior to what might have been expected from her 
station in life, was very apparent to all at table ; though it was 
quite impossible to mistake his parental and frank air for any 
other admiration than that which was suitable to the difference 
in years, and in unison with their respective conditions and ex- 
perience. Mrs. Dutton, so far from taking the alarm at the 
rear-admiral’s attentions, felt gratification in observing them ; 
and perhaps she . experienced a secret pride in the consciousness 
of their being so well merited. It has been said, already, that 
she was, herself, the daughter of a land-steward of a noble- 
man, in an adjoining county ; but it may be well to add, here, 
that she had been so great a favourite with the daughters of 
her father’s employer, as to have been admitted, in a measure, 
to their society ; and to have enjoyed some of the advantages 
of their education. Lady Wilmeter, the mother of the young 
ladies, to whom she was admitted as a sort of humble com- 
panion, had formed the opinion it might be an advantage to the 
girl to educate her for a governess ; little conceiving, in her 
own situation, that she was preparing a course of life for Martha 
Ray, for such was Mrs. Dutton’s maiden name, that was per- 
haps the least enviable of all the careers that a virtuous and 
intelligent female can run. This was, as education and gov- 
ernesses were appreciated a century ago ; the world, with all 
its faults and sophisms, having unquestionably made a vast 
stride towards real civilization, and moral truths, in a thousand 
important interests, since that time. Nevertheless, the educa- 
tion Avas received, together with a good many tastes, and sen- 
timents, and opinions, which it may well be questioned, whether 
they contributed most to the happiness or unhappiness of the 


104 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


pupil, in her future life. Frank Dutton, then a handsome, 
though far from polished young sea-lieutenant, interfered with 
the arrangement, by making Martha Ray his wife, when she 
was two-and-twenty. This match was suitable, in all re- 
spects, with the important exception of the educations and 
characters of the parties. Still, as a woman may well he more 
refined, and in some things, even more intelligent than her 
husband ; and as sailors, in the commencement of the eighteenth 
century, formed a class of society much more distinct than they 
do to-day, there would have been nothing absolutely incompati- 
ble v/ith the future well-being of the young couple, had each 
pursued his, or her own career, in a manner suitable to their 
respective duties. Young Dutton took away his bride, with 
the two thousand pounds she had received from her father, and 
for a long time he was seen no more in his native county. 
After an absence of some twenty years, however, he returned, 
broken in constitution, and degraded in rank. Mrs. Dutton 
brought with her one child, the beautiful girl introduced to the 
reader, and to whom she was studiously imparting all she had 
herself acquired in the adventitious manner mentioned. Such 
•w'ere the means, by which Mildred, like her mother, had been 
educated above her condition in life ; and it had been remarked 
that, though Mrs. Dutton had probably no cause to felicitate 
herself on the possession of manners and sentiments that met 
with so little sympathy, or appreciation, in her actual situation, 
she assiduously cultivated the same manners and opinions in 
her daughter ; frequently manifesting a sort of sickly fastidious- 
ness on the subject of Mildred’s deportment and tastes. It is 
probable the girl owed her improvement in both, however, 
more to the circumstance of her being left so much alone with 
her mother, than to any positive lessons she received ; the in- 
fluence of example, for years, producing its usual eflects. 

No one in Wychecombe positively knew the history of Dut- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


105 


ton’s professional degradation He had never risen higher than 
to be a lieutenant ; and from this station he had fallen by the 
sentence of a court-martial. His restoration to the service, in 
the humbler and almost hopeless rank of a master, -svas be- 
lieved to have been brought about by Mrs. Dutton’s influence 
with the present Lord Wilmeter, who was the brother of her 
youthful companions. That the husband had wasted his 
means, was as certain as that his habits, on the score of tem- 
perance at least, were bad, and that his wife, if not positively 
broken-hearted, was an unhappy woman ; one to be pitied, and 
admired. Sir Wycherly was little addicted to analysis, but he 
could not fail to discover the superiority of the wife and daugh- 
ter, over the husband and father ; and it is due to his young 
namesake to add, that his obvious admiration of Mildred was 
quite as much owing to her mind, deportment, character, and 
tastes, as to her exceeding personal charms. 

This little digression may perhaps, in the reader’s eyes, 
excuse the interest Admiral Bluewater took in our heroine. 
With the indulgenee of years and station, and the tact of a 
man of the world, he succeeded in drawing Mildred out, with- 
out alarming her timidity ; and he was surprised at discovering 
the delicacy of her sentiments, and the accuracy of her knowl- 
edge. He was too conversant with society, and had too much 
good taste, to make any deliberate parade of opinions ; but in 
the quiet manner that is so easy to those who are accustomed 
to deal with truths and tastes as familiar things, he succeeded 
in inducing her to answer his own remarks, to sympathize with 
his feelings, to laugh when he laughed, and to assume a look of 
disapproval, when he felt that disapprobation was just. To all 
this Wycherly was a delighted witness, and in some respects 
he participated in the conversation ; for there was evidently 
no wish' on the part of the rear-admiral to monopolize his 
beautiful companion to himself Perhaps the position of the 


106 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


young man, directly opposite to her, aided in inducing Mildred 
to bestow so many grateful looks and sweet smiles, on the older 
officer; for she could not glance across the table, without 
meeting the admiring gaze of Wycherly, fastened on her own 
blushing face. 

It is certain, if our heroine did not, during this repast, 
make a conquest of Admiral Bluewater, in the ordinary mean- 
ing of the term, that she made him a friend. Sir Gervaise, 
even, was struck with the singular and devoted manner in 
which his old messmate gave all his attention to the beautiful 
girl at his side ; and, once or twice, he caught himself con- 
jecturing whether it were possible, that one as practised, as 
sensible, and as much accustomed to the beauties of the court, 
as Bluewater, had actually been caught, by the pretty face of 
a country girl, when so well turned of fifty, himself ! Then 
discarding the notion as preposterous, he gave his attention to 
the discourse of Sir Wycherly ; a dissertation on rabbits, and 
rabbit-warrens. In this manner the dinner passed away. 

Mrs. Dutton asked her host’s permission to retire, with her 
daughter, at the earliest moment permitted by propriety. In 
quitting the room she cast an anxious glance at the face of her 
husband, which was already becoming flushed with his fre- 
quent applications of port ; and spite of an eflbrt to look smiling 
and cheerful, her lips quivered, and by the time she and Mil- 
dred reached the drawing-room, tears were fast falling down 
her cheeks. No explanation was asked, or needed, by the 
daughter, who threw herself into her mother’s arms, and for 
several minutes they wept together, in silence. Never had 
Mrs. Dutton spoken, even to Mildred, of the besetting and de- 
grading vice of her husband ; but it had been impossible to 
conceal its painful consequences from the world ; much less 
from one who lived in the bosom of her family. On that fail- 
ing which the wife treated so tenderly, the daughter of course 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


107 


could not touch ; but the silent communion of tears had got to 
be so sweet to both, that, within the last year, it was of very 
frequent occurrence. 

“ Really, Mildred,” said the mother, at length, after hav- 
ing succeeded in suppressing her emotion, and in drying her 
eyes, while she smiled fondly in the face of the lovely and 
affectionate girl ; “ this Admiral Bluewater is getting to be so 
particular, I hardly know how to treat the matter.” 

“ Oh ! mother, he is a delightful old gentleman ! and he is 
so gentle, while he is so frank, that he wins your confidence 
almost before you know it. I wonder if he could have been 
serious in what he said about the noble daring and noble de- 
serving of Prince Edward !” 

“ That must pass for trifling, of course ; the ministry would 
scarcely employ any hut a true whig, in command of a fleet. 
I saw several of his family, when a girl, and have always 
heard them spoken of with esteem and respect. Lord Blue- 
water, this gentleman’s cousin, was very intimate with the 
present Lord Wilmeter, and was often at the castle. I re- 
member to have heard that he had a disappointment in love, 
when quite a young man, and that he has ever since been 
considered a confirmed bachelor. So you will take heed, 
my love.” 

“ The warning was unnecessary, dear mother,” returned 
Mildred, laughing ; “ I could dote on the admiral as a father, 
but must be excused from considering him young enough for a 
nearer tie.” 

“ And yet he has the much admired profession, Mildred,” 
said the mother, smiling fondly, and yet a little archly. “ I 
have often heard you speak of your passion for the sea.” 

“ That was formerly, mother, when I spoke as a sailor’s 
daughter, and as girls are apt to speak, without much reflec- 
tion. I do not know that I think better of a seaman’s profes- 


108 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


sion, now, than I do of any other. I fear there is often much 
misery in store for soldiers’ and sailors’ wives.” 

Mrs. Dutton’s lip quivered again ; but hearing a foot at 
the door, she made an effort to be composed, just as Admiral 
Blue water entered. 

“ I have run away from the bottle, Mrs. Dutton, to join 
you and your fair daughter, as I would run from an enemy of 
twice my force,” he said, giving each lady a hand, in a man- 
ner so friendly, as to render the act more than gracious ; for it 
was kind. “ Oakes is bowsing out his jib with his brother 
baronet, as we sailors say, and I have hauled out of the line, 
without a signal.” 

“ I hope Sir Gervaise Oakes does not consider it necessary 
to drink more wine than is good for the mind and body,” ob- 
served Mrs. Dutton, with a haste that she immediately 
regretted. 

“ Not he. Gervaise Oakes is as discreet a man, in all that 
relates to the table, as an anchorite ; and yet he has a faculty 
of seeming to drink, that makes him a boon companion for a 
four-bottle man. How the deuce he does it, is more than I can 
tell you ; but he does it so well, that he does not more 
thoroughly get the better of the king’s enemies, on the high 
seas, than he floors his friends under the table. Sir Wycherly 
has begun his libations in honour of the house of Hanover, 
and they will be likely to make a long sitting.” 

Mrs. Dutton sighed, and walked away to a window, to con- 
ceal the paleness of her cheeks. Admiral Bluewater, though 
perfectly abstemious himself, regarded license with the bottle 
after dinner, like most men of that age, as a very venial 
weakness, and he quietly took a seat by the side of Mildred, 
and began to converse. 

“ I hope, young lady, as a sailor’s child, you feel an he- 
reditary indulgence for a seaman’s gossip,” he said. “ We 


THE TWO admirals. 


109 


who are so much shut up in our ships, have a poverty of ideas 
on most subjects ; and as to always talking of the winds and 
waves, that would fatigue even a poet.” 

“ As a sailor’s daughter, I honour my father’s calling, sir ; 
and as an English girl, I venerate the brave defenders of the 
island. Nor do I know that seamen have less to say, than 
other men.” 

“I am glad to hear you confess this, for — shall I be frank 
with you, and take a liberty that would better become a 
friend of a dozen years, than an acquaintance of a day ; — and, 
yet, I know not why it is so, my dear child, but I feel as if I 
had long known you, though I am certain we never met 
before.” 

“ Perhaps, sir, it is an omen that we are long to know 
each other, in future,” said Mildred, with the winning confi- 
dence of unsuspecting and innocent girlhood. “ I hope you 
wdll use no reserve.” 

“ Well, then, at the risk of making a sad blunder, I will , 
just say, that ‘ my nephew Tom’ is any thing but a prepossess- 
ing youth ; and that I hope all eyes regard him exactly as he 
appears to a sailor of fifty-five.” 

“ I cannot answ’cr for more than those of a girl of nine- 
teen, Admiral Bluewater,” said Mildred, laughing ; “ but, for 
her, I think I may say that she does not look on him as either 
an Adonis, or a Crichton.” 

“ Upon my soul ! I am right glad to hear this, for the fellow 
has accidental advantages enough to render him formidable. 
He is the heir to the baronetcy, and this estate, I believe ?” 

“ I presume he is. Sir Wychcrly has no other nephew — 
or at least this is the eldest of three brothers, I am told — and, 
being childless himself, it must be so. My father tolls me Sir 
Wycherly speaks of Mr. Thomas Wychccombc as his future 
heir.” 


10 


no 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Your father ! — Ay, fathers look on these matters with 
eyes very different from their daughters I” 

“ There is one thing about seamen that renders them at 
least safe acquaintances,” said Mildred, smiling; “ I mean their 
frankness.” 

“ That is a failing of mine, as I have heard. But you will 
pardon an indiscretion that arises in the interest I feel in your- 
self. The eldest of three brothers — is the lieutenant, then, a 
younger son ?” 

' “ He does not belong to the family at all, I believe,” 

Mildred answered, colouring slightly, in spite of a resolute 
determination to appear unconcerned. “ Mr. Wycherly 
Wychecombe is no relative of our host, I hear ; though he 
bears both of his names. He is from the colonies ; born in 
Virginia.” 

“ He is a noble, and a noble-looking fellow ! Were I the 
baronet, I would break the entail, rather than the acres should 
go to that sinister-looking nephew, and bestow them on the 
namesake. From Virginia, and not even a relative, at all ?” 

“ That is what Mr. Thomas Wychecombe says ; and even 
Sir Wycherly confirms it. I have never heard Mr. Wycherly 
Wychecombe speak on the subject, ‘himself.” 

• “A weakness of poor human nature ! The lad finds an 
honourable, ancient, and affluent family here, and has not the 
courage to declare his want of affinity to it ; happening to 
bear the same name.” 

Mildred hesitated about replying ; but a generous feeling 
got the better of her diffidence. “ I have never seen any thing 
in the conduct of Mr. Wycherly Wychecombe to induce me to 
think that he feels any such weakness,” she said, earnestly. 
“ He seems rather to take pride in, than to feel ashamed of, his 
being a colonial ; and you know, we, in England, hardly look 
on the people of the colonies as our equals.” 


T I[ E TWO ADMIRALS. 


Ill 


“ And have you, young lady, any of that overweening pre- 
judice in favour of your own island ?” 

“ I hope not ; but I think most persons have. Mr. Wych- 
erly Wycheconibe admits that Virginia is inferior to England, 
in a thousand things ; and yet he seems to take pride in his 
birth-place.” 

“ Every sentiment of this nature is to be traced to self. We 
know that the fact is irretrievable, and struggle to be proud of 
what we cannot help. The Turk will tell you he has the 
honour to be a native of Stamboul ; the Parisian will boast of 
his Faubourg ; and the cockney exults in Wapping. Personal 
conceit lies at the bottom of all ; for we fancy that places to 
which ive belong, are not places to be ashamed of” 

“ And yet I do not think Mr. Wycherly at all remark- 
able for conceit. On the contrary, he is rather diffident and 
unassuming.” 

This was said simply, but so sincerely, as to induce the lis- 
tener to fasten his penetrating blue eye on the speaker, who 
now first took the alarm, and felt that she might have said too 
much. At this moment the two young men entered, and a 
servant appea-red to request that Admiral Bluewater would do 
Sir Gervaise Oakes the favour to join him, in the dressing- 
room of the latter. 

Tom Wychecombe reported the condition of the dinner-table 
to be such, as to render it desirable for all but three and four- 
bottle men to retire. Hanoverian toasts and sentiments were 
in the ascendant, and there was every appearance that those 
who remained intended to make a night of it. This was sad 
intelligence for Mrs. Dutton, who had come forward eagerly to 
hear the report, but who now returned to the window, appar- 
ently irresolute as to the course she ought to take. A s both the 
young men remained near Mildred, she had sufficient opportu- 
nity to come to her decision, without interruption, or hindrance. 


CHAPTER VII. 


“ Somewhat we will do. 

And, look, when I am king, claim then of me 
The earldom of Hereford, and all the moveables 
Whereof the king my brother was possessed.” 

Richard III. 

Rear-Admiral Bluewater found Sir (xervaise Oakes pa- 
cing a large dressing-room, quarter-deck fashion, with as much 
zeal, as if just released from a long sitting, on official duty, in 
his own cabin. As the two officers were perfectly familiar 
with each other’s personal habits, neither deviated from his 
particular mode of indulging his ease ; but the last comer 
quietly took his seat in a large chair, disposing of his person in 
a way to show he intended to consult his comfort, let what 
would happen. 

“ Bluewater,” commenced Sir Gervaise, “ this is a very 
foolish affair of the Pretender’s son, and can only lead to his 
destruction. I look upon it as altogether unfortunate.” 

^‘That, as it may terminate. No man can tell what a 
day, or an hour, may bring forth. I am sure, such a rising 
was one of the last things I have been anticipating, down 
yonder, in the Bay of Biscay.” 

“ I wish, with all my heart, we had never left it,” mut- 
tered Sir Gervaise, so low that his companion did not hear 
him. Then he added, in a louder tone, “ Our duty, however, 
is very simple. We have only to obey orders ; and it seems 
that the young man has no naval force to sustain him. We 
shall probably be sent to watch Brest, or 1’ Orient, or some 
other port. Monsieur must be kept in, let what will happen.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


113 


“ I rather think it would be better to let him out. our 
chances on the high seas being at least as good as his own. 
I am no friend to blockades, which strike me as an un-English 
mode of carrying on a war.” 

“ You are right enough, Dick, in the main,” returned Sir 
Gervaise, laughing. 

“ Ay, and on the main, Oakes. I sincerely hope the First 
Lord will not send a man like you, who are every way so 
capable of giving an account of your enemy with plenty of 
sea-room, on duty so scurvy as a blockade.” 

“ A man like me ! Why a man like me in particular ? I 
trust I am to have the pleasure of Admiral Bluewater’s com- 
pany, advice and assistance ?” 

“ An inferior never can know. Sir Gervaise, where it may 
suit the pleasure of his superiors to order him.” 

“ That distinction of superior and inferior, Bluewater, will 
one day lead you into a confounded scrape, I fear. If you 
consider Charles Stuart your sovereign, it is not probable that 
orders issued by a servant of King George will be much re- 
spected. I hope you will do nothing hastily, or without con- 
sulting your oldest and truest friend !” 

“You know my sentiments, and there is little use in dwell- 
ing on them, now. So long as the quarrel was between my 
own country and a foreign land, I have been content to serve ; 
but w^hen my lawful prince, or his son and heir, comes in this 
gallant and chivalrous manner, throwing himself, as it might 
be, into the very arms of his subjects, confiding all to theii 
loyalty and spirit ; it makes such an appeal to every nobler 
feeling, that the heart finds it difficult to repulse. I could 
have joined Norris, with right good will, in dispersing and 
destroying the armament that Louis XV. was sending against 
us, in this very cause ; but here every thing is English, and 
Englishmen have the quarrel entirely to themselves. I do not 

10 * 


114 


THE T >V O ADMIRALS. 


Ece how, as a loyal subject of my hereditary prince, 1 can 
well refrain from joining his standard.” 

“ And would you, Dick Bluewater, who, to my certain 
knowledge, were sent on board ship at twelve years of age, 
and who, for more than forty years, have been a man-of-war’ s- 
man, body and soul ; would you now strip your old hulk of the 
sea-blue that has so long covered and become it, rig yourself 

out like a soldier, with a feather in your hat, — ay, d e, 

and a camp-kettle on your arm, and follow a drummer, like 
one of your kinsmen, Lord Bluewater’ s fellows of the guards ? 
— for of sailors, your lawful prince, as you call him, hasn’t 
enough to stopper his conscience, or to whip the tail of his 
coat, to keep it from being torn to tatters by the heather of 
Scotland. If you do follow the adventurer, it must be in some 
such character, since I question if he can muster a seaman, 
to tell him the bearings of London from Perth.” 

“ When I join him, he will be better off.” 

“ And what could even you do alone, among a parcel of 
Scotchmen, running about their hills under bare poles ? Your 
signals will not manoeuvre regiments, and as for manoeuvring 
in any other manner, you know nothing. No — no ; stay 
where you are, and help an old friend with knowledge that 
is useful to him. — I should be afraid to do a dashing thing, 
unless I felt the certainty of having you in my van, to 
strike the first blow ; or in my rear, to bring me off, hand- 
somely. 

“ You would be afraid of nothing, Gervaise Oakes, whether 
I stood at your elbow, or were off in Scotland. Fear is not 
your failing, though temerity may be.” 

“ Then I want your presence to keep me within the 
bounds of reason,” said Sir Gervaise, stopping short in his 
walk, and looking his friend smilingly in the face. “ In some 
mode, or other, I always need your aid.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


115 


“ I understand the meaning of your words, Sir Gervaise, 
and appreciate the feeling that dictates them. You must 
have a perfect conviction that I will do nothing hastily, and 
that I will betray no trust. When I turn my hack on King 
George, it will he loyalty, in one sense, whatever he may 
think of it in another ; and when I join Prince Charles Ed- 
ward, it will be with a conscience that he need not be 
ashamed to probe. What names he bears ! They are the 
designations of ancient English sovereigns, and ought of them- 
selves, to awaken the sensibilities of Englishmen.” 

“ Ay, Charles in particular,” returned the vice-admiral, 
with something like a sneer. “ There’s the second Charles, 
for instance — St. Charles, as our good host. Sir Wycherly, 
might call him — he is a pattern prince for Englishmen to ad- 
mire. Then his father was of the school of the Star-Chamber 
martyrs !” 

“ Both were lineal descendants of the Conqueror, and of 
the Saxon princes ; and both united the double titles to the 
throne, in their sacred persons. I have always considered 
Charles II. as the victim of the rebellious conduct of his sub- 
jects, rather than vicious. He was driven abroad into a most 
corrupt state of society, and was perverted by our wickedness. 
As to the father, he was the real St. Charles, and a martyred 
saint he was ; dying for true religion, as well as for his legal 
rights. Then the Edwards — glorious fellows ! — remember 
that they v/ere all but one Plantagenets ; a name, of itself, 
to rouse an Englishman’s fire !” 

“ And yet the only difference between the right of these 
very Plantagenets to the throne, and that of the reigning 
prince, is, that one produced a revolution by the strong hand, 
and the other was produced by a revolution that came from 
the nation. I do not know that your Plantagenets ever did 
any thing for a navy ; the only real source of England’s 


116 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


power and glory. D e, Dick, if I think so much of your 

Plantagenets, after all !” 

“ And yet the name of Oakes is to be met with among 
their bravest knights, and most faithful followers.” 

“ The Oakes, like the pines, have been timbers in every 
ship that has floated,” returned the vice-admiral, half-uncon- 
scious himself, of the pun he was making. 

For more than a minute Sir Gervaise continued his walk, 
his head a little inclined forward, like a man who pondered 
deeply on some matter of interest. Then, suddenly stopping, 
he turned towards his friend, whom he regarded for near 
another minute, ere he resumed the discourse. 

“ I wish I could fairly get you to exercise your excellent 
reason on this matter, Dick,” he said, after the pause ; “ then 
I should be certain of having secured you on the side of 
liberty.” 

Admiral Bluewater merely shook his head, but he con- 
tinued silent, as if he deemed discussion altogether supererog- 
atory. During this pause, a gentle tap at the door an- 
nounced a visiter ; and, at the request to enter, Atwood made 
his appearance. He held in his hand a large package, which 
bore on the envelope the usual stamp that indicated it was 
sent on public service. 

“ I beg pardon. Sir Gervaise,” commenced the secretary, 
who always proceeded at once to business, when business was 
to be done ; “ but His Majesty’s service will not admit of de- 
lay. This packet has just come to hand, by the arrival of an 
express, Avhich left the admiralty only yesterday noon.” 

“ And how the devil did he know where to find me !” ex- 
claimed the vice-admiral, holding out a hand to receive the 
communication. 

“ It is all owing to this young lieutenant’s forethought in 
following up the Jacobite intelligence to a market-town. The 


THE TWO ADMIRALS 


111 


courier was bound to Falmouth, as fast as post-horses could 
carry him, when he heard, luckily, that the fleet lay at an- 
chor, under Wychecombe Head ; and, quite as luckily, he is 
an officer who had the intelligence to know that you would 
sooner get the despatches, if he turned aside, and came hither 
by land, than if he went on to Falmouth, got aboard the sloop 
that was to sail with him, for the Bay of Biscay, and came 
round here by water.” 

Sir Gervaise smiled at this sally, which was one in keeping 
with all Atwood’s feelings ; for the secretary had matured a 
system of expresses, which, to his great mortification, his 
patron laughed at, and the admiralty entirely overlooked. 
No time was lost, however, in the way of business ; the sec- 
retary having placed the candles on a table, where Sir Ger- 
vaise took a chair, and had already broken a seal. The pro- 
cess of reading, nevertheless, was suddenly interrupted by the 
vice-admiral’s looking up, and exclaiming — 

“ Why, you are not about to leave us, Bluewater ?” 

“You may have private business with Mr. Atwood, Sir 
Gervaise, and perhaps I had better retire.” 

Now, it so happened that while Sir Gervaise Oakes had 
never, by look or syllable, as he confidently believed, betrayed 
the secret of his friend’s Jacobite propensities, Atwood was 
perfectly aware of their existence. Nor had the latter 
obtained his knowledge by any unworthy means. He had 
been neither an eavesdropper, nor an inquirer into private 
communications, as so often happens around the persons of 
men in high trusts ; all his knowledge having been obtained 
through native sagacity and unavoidable opportunities. On 
the present occasion, the secretary, with the tact of a man of 
experience, felt that his presence might be dispensed with ; 
and he cut short the discussion between the two admirals, by 
a very timely remark of his owm. 


118 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ I have left the letters uncopied, Sir Gervaise,” he said, 
“and will go and finish them. A message by Locker” — this 
was Sir Gervaise’s body-servant — “ will bring me back at a 
moment’s notice, should you need me again to-night.” 

“ That Atwood has a surprising instinct, for a Scotchman I” 
exclaimed the vice-admiral, as soon as the door was closed on 
the secretary. “ He not only knows when he is wanted, but 
when he is 7iot wanted. The last is an extraordinary attain- 
ment, for one of his nation.” 

“ And one that an Englishman may do well to emulate,” 
returned Bluewater. “ It is possible my company may be 
dispensed with, also, just at this important moment.” 

“ You are not so much afraid of the Hanoverians, Dick, as 
to run aw'ay from their hand- writing, are ye ? Ha — w^hat’s 
this ? — As I live, a packet for yourself, and directed to ‘ Rear- 
Admiral Sir Richard Bluewater, K.B.’ By the Lord, my old 
boy, they’ve given you the red riband at last ! This is an 
honour well earned, and which may be fitly w'^orn.” 

“ ’Tis rather unexpected, I must own. The letter, how- 
ever, cannot be addressed to me, as I am not a Knight of the 
Bath.” 

“ This is rank nonsense. Open the packet, at once, or I 
will do it for you. Are there two Dick Blue waters in the 
world, or another rear-admiral of the same name ?” 

“ I w'ould rather not receive a letter that does not strictly 
bear my address,” returned the other, eoldly. 

“ As I’ll be sworn this does. But hand it to me, since 
you are so scrupulous, and I will do that small service for 
you.” 

As this was said. Sir Gervaise tore aside the seals ; and, as 
he proceeded rather summarily, a red riband was soon uncased 
and fell upon the carpet. The other usual insignia of the Bath 
made their appearance, and a letter was found among them, 


THE TWO A D M I R A T, S . 


119 


to explain the meaning of all. Every thing was in due form, 
and went to acquaint Rear-Admiral Bluewater, that His 
Majesty had been graciously pleased to confer on him one of the 
vacant red ribands of the day, as a reward for his eminent 
services on different occasions. was even a short com- 

munication from the premier, expressing the great satisfaction 
of the ministry in thus being able to second the royal pleasure, 
with hearty good will. 

“ Well, what do you think of that, Richard Bluewater ?” 
asked Sir Gervaise, triumphantly. “ Did I not always tell you, 
that sooner or later, it must come ?” 

“ It has come too late, then,” coldly returned the other, lay- 
ing the riband, jewels, and letters, quietly on the table. 
“ This is an honour, I can receive, now, only from my 
rightful prince. None other can legally create a knight of the 
Bath.” 

“ And pray, Mr. Richard Bluewater, who made you a 
captain, a commander, a rear-admiral ? Do you believe me 
an impostor, because I wear this riband on authority no better 
than that of the house of Hanover ? Am I, or am I not, in 
your judgment, a vice-admiral of the red ?” 

“ I make a great distinction, Oakes, between rank in the 
navy, and a mere personal dignity. In the one case, you serve 
your country, and give quite as much as you receive ; whereas, 
in the other, it is a grace to confer consideration on the person 
honoured, without such an equivalent as can find an apology 
for accepting a rank illegally conferred.” 

“ The devil take your distinctions, which would unsettle 
every thing, and render the service a Babel. If I am a vice- 
admiral of the red, I am a knight of the Bath ; and, if yon 
are a rear-admiral of the white, you are also a knight of that 
honourable order. All comes from the same source of authority, 
and the same fountain of honour.” 


120 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ I do not view it thus. Our commissions are from the 
admiralty, which represents the country ; but dignities come 
from the prince who happens to reign, let his title be what it 
may.” 

“ Do you happen to think Richard III. a usurper, or a law- 
ful prince ?” 

“ A usurper, out of all question ; and a murderer to boot. 
His name should be struck from the list of English kings. I 
never hear it, without execrating him, and his deeds.” 

“ Pooh — pooh, Dick, this is talking more like a poet than 
a seaman. If only one-half the sovereigns w'ho deserve to be 
execrated had their names erased, the list of even our En- 
glish kings would be rather short ; and some countries would 
be without historical kings at all. However much Rich- 
ard III. may deserve cashiering in this summary manner, 
his peers and laws are just as good as any other prince’s 
peers and laws. Witness the Duke of Norfolk, for in- 
stance.” 

“ Ay, that cannot be helped by me ; but it is in my power 
to prevent Richard Bluewater’s being made a knight or the 
Bath, by George II. ; and the power shall be used.” 

“ It would seem not, as he is already created ; and I dare 
to say, gazetted.” 

“ The oaths are not yet taken, and it is, at least, an En- 
glishman’s birth-right, to decline an honour ; if, indeed, this 
can be esteemed an honour, at all.” 

“ Upon my word, Rear-Admiral Sir Richard Bluewater, 
you are disposed to be complimentary, to-night ! The unwor- 
thy knight present, and all the rest of the order, are infinitely 
indebted to you !” 

“ Your case and mine, Oakes, are essentially difierent,” 
returned the other, with some emotion in his voice and man- 
ner. “ Your riband was fairly won, fighting the battles of 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


121 


England, and can be worn with credit to yourself and to your 
country ; but these baubles are sent to me, at a moment 
when a rising was foreseen, and as a sop to keep me in 
good-humour, as well as to propitiate the whole Bluewater 
interest.” 

“ That is pure conjecture, and I dare say will prove to be 
altogether a mistake. Here are the despatches to speak for 
themselves ; and, as it is scarcely possible that the ministry 
should have known of this rash movement of the Pretender’s 
son, more than a few days, my life on it, the dates will show 
that your riband was bestowed before the enterprise was even 
suspected.” 

As Sir Gervaise commenced, with his constitutional ardour, 
to turn over the letters, as soon as his mind was directed to 
this particular object, Admiral Bluewater resumed his seat, 
awaiting the result, with not a little curiosity ; though, at the 
same time, with a smile of incredulity. The examination dis- 
appointed Sir Gervaise Oakes. The dates proved that the 
ministers were better informed than he had supposed ; for it 
appeared they had been apprised about the time he was him- 
self of the intended movement His orders were to bring the 
fleet north, and in substance to do the very thing his own 
sagacity had dictated. So far every thing was well ; and he 
could not entertain a doubt about receiving the hearty appro- 
bation of his superiors, for the course he had taken. But here 
his gratification ended ; for, on looking at the dates of the dif- 
ferent communications, it was evident that the red riband was 
bestowed after the intelligence of the Pretender’s movement 
had reached London. A private letter, from a friend at the 
Board of Admiralty, too, spoke of his own probable promotion 
to the rank of admiral of the blue ; and mentioned several 
other similar preferments, in a way to show that the govern- 
ment was fortifying itself, in the present crisis, as much as 


1* 


122 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


possible, by favours. This was a politic mode of procedure, 
with ordinary men, it is true ; but with officers of the eleva- 
tion of mind, and of the independence of character of our 
two admirals, it was most likely to produce disgust. 

“ D — n ’em, Dick,” cried Sir Gervaise, as he threw down 
the last letter of the package, with no little sign of feeling ; 
“ you might take St. Paul, or even Wychecombe’s dead bro- 
ther, St. James the Less, and put him at court, and he would 
come out a thorough blackguard, in a week !” 

“ That is not the common opinion concerning a court edu- 
cation,” quietly replied the friend ; “ most people fancying 
that the place gives refinement of manners, if not of 
sentiment.” 

“ Poh — poh — you and I have no need of a dictionary to 
understand each other. I call a man who never trusts to a 
generous motive — M'ho thinks it always necessary to bribe or 
cajole — who has no idea of any thing’s being done without its 
direct quid 'pro quo, a scurvy blackguard, though he has the 
airs and graces of Phil. Stanhope, or Chesterfield, as he is 
now. What do you think those chaps at the Board, talk of 
doing, by way of clinching my loyalty, at this blessed 
juncture ?” 

“No doubt to get you raised to the peerage. I see nothing 
so much out of the way in the thing. You are of one of the 
oldest families of England, and the sixth baronet by in- 
heritance, and have a noble landed estate, which is none the 
worse for prize-money. Sir Gervaise Oakes of Bowldero, 
would make a very suitable Lord Bowldero.” 

'* If it were only that, I shouldn’t mind it ; for nothing is 
easier than to refuse a peerage. I’ve done that twice 
already, and can do it a third time, at need. But one can't 
very well refuse promotion in his regular profession ; and, 
here, just as a true gentleman would depend on the principles 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


12 


of an officer, the hackneyed consciences of your courtiers have 
suggested the expediency of making Gervaise Oakes an admi- 
ral of the blue, by way of sop ! — me, who was made vice-ad- 
miral of the red, only six months since, and who take an 
honest pride in boasting that every commission, from the 
lowest to the highest, has been fairly earned in battle !” 

“ They think it a more delicate service, perhaps, for a 
gentleman to be true to the reigning house, wdien so loud an 
appeal is made to his natural loyalty ; and therefore class the 
self-conquest with a victory at sea !” 

“ They are so many court-lubbers, and I should like to 
have an opportunity of speaking my mind to them. I’ll not 
take the new commission ; for every one must see, Dick, that 
it is a sop.” 

“ Ay, that’s just my notion, too, about the red riband ; 
and I’ll not take that. You have had the riband these ten 
years, have declined the peerage twice, and their only chance 
is the promotion. Take it you ought, and must, however, as 
it will be the means of pushing on some four or five poor 
devils, who have been wedged up to honours, in this manner, 
ever since they were captains. I am glad they do not talk of 
promoting me, for I should hardly know how to refuse such a 
grace. There is great virtue in parchment, with all us mili- 
tary men.” 

“ Still it must be parchment fairly vv’’on. I think you are 
wrong, notwithstanding, Bluewater, in talking of refusing the 
riband, which is so justly your due, for a dozen difierent acts. 
There is not a man in the service, who has been less rewarded 
for what he has done, than yourself.” 

“ I am sorry to hear you give this as your opinion ; for 
just at this moment, I would rather think that I have no 
cause of complaint, in this way, against the reigning family, 
or its ministers. I’m sure I was posted when quite a young 


124 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


man, and since that time, no one has been lifted over my 
head.” 

The vice-admiral looked intently at his friend ; for never 
before had he detected a feeling which betrayed, as he fancied, 
so settled a determination in him to quit the service of the 
powers that were. Acquainted from boyhood with all the 
workings of the other’s mind, he perceived that the rear-admi- 
ral had been endeavouring to persuade himself that no selfish 
or unworthy motive could he assigned to an act which he felt 
to proceed from disinterested chivalry, just as he himself broke 
out with his expression of an opinion that no officer had been 
less liberally rewarded for his professional services than his 
friend. While there is no greater mysteiy to a selfish mana- 
ger, than a man of disinterested temperament, they who feel 
and submit to generous impulses, understand each other with 
an instinctive facility. When any particular individual is 
prone to believe that there is a predominance of good over evil 
y in the world he inhabits, it is a sign of inexperience, or of imbe- 
cility ; but when one acts and reasons as if all honour and virtue 
are extinct, he furnishes the best possible argument against his 
own tendencies and character. It has often been remarked that 
stronger friendships are made between those who have differ- 
ent personal peculiarities, than between those whose sameness 
of feeling and impulses would he less likely to keep interest 
alive ; hut, in all cases of intimacies, there must he great 
identity of principles, and even of tastes in matters at all con- 
nected with motives, in order to ensure respect, among those 
whose standard of opinion is higher than common, or sympa- 
thy among those with whom it is lower. Such was the fact, 
as respected Admirals Oakes and Bluewater. No two men 
could be less alike in temperament, or character, physically, 
and in some senses, morally considered ; hut, when it came to 
principles, or all those tastes or feelings that are allied to 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


125 


principles, there was a strong native, as well as acquired 
affinity. This union of sentiment was increased by common 
habits, and professional careers so long and so closely united, 
as to be almost identical. Nothing was easier, consequently, 
than for Sir Gervaise Oakes to comprehend the workings of 
Admiral Bluewater’s mind, as the latter endeavoured to be- 
lieve he had been fairly treated by the existing government. 
Of course, the reasoning which passed through the thoughts of 
Sir Gervaise, on this occasion, required much less time than 
w^e have taken to explain its nature ; and, after regarding his 
friend intently, as already related, for a few seconds, he an- 
swered as follows ; a good deal influenced, unwittingly to him- 
self, with the wish to check the other’s Jacobite propensities. 

“ I am sorry not to be able to agree with you, Dick,” he 
said, with some warmth. “ So far from thinking you well 
treated, by any ministry, these twenty years, I think you have 
been very ill treated. Your rank you have, beyond a question ; 
for of that no brave officer can well be deprived in a regulated 
service ; but, have you had the commands to which you are 
entitled ? — I was a commander-in-chief when only a rear- 
admiral of the blue ; and then how long did I wear a broad 
pennant, before I got a flag at all !” 

“ You forget how much I have been with you. When 
two serve together, one must command, and the other must 
obey. So far from complaining of these Hanoverian Boards, 
and First Lords, it seems to me that they have always kept in 
view the hollowness of their claims to the throne, and have 
felt a desire to purchase honest men by their favours.” 

“ You are the strangest fellow, Dick Bluewater, it has ever 

been my lot to fall in with ! D e me, if I believe you 

know always, when you are ill treated. There are a dozen 
men in service, who have had separate commands, and who 
are not half as well entitled to them, as you are yourself.” 


126 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Come, come, Oakes, this is getting to be puerile, for two 
old fellows, turned of fifty. You very well know that I was 
offered just as good a fleet, as this of your own, with a choice 
of the whole list of flag-officers below me, to pick a junior 
from ; and, so, we’ll say no more about it. As respects their 
red riband, however, it may go a-begging for me.” 

Sir Gervaise was about to answer in his former vein, when 
a tap at the door announced the presence of another visiter. 
This time the door opened on the person of Galleygo, who had 
been included in Sir Wycherly’s hospitable plan of entertaining 
every soul who immediately belonged to the suite of Sir Ger- 
vaise. 

“ What the d — 1 has brought you here !” exclaimed the 
vice-admiral, a little warmly ; for he did not relish an inter- 
ruption just at this moment. “ Recollect you’re not on board 
the Plantagenet, but in the dwelling of a gentleman, where 
there are both butler and housekeeper, and who have no occa- 
sion for your advice, or authority, to keep things in order.” 

“ Well, there. Sir Gervaise I doesn’t agree with you the 
least bit ; for I thinks as a ship’s steward — I mean a cabui 
steward, and a good ’un of the quality — might do a great 
deal of improvement in this very house. The cook and I has 
had a partic’lar dialogue on them matters, already ; and I 
mentioned to her the names of seven different dishes, every 
one of which she quite as good as admitted to me, was just 
the same as so much gospel to her^ 

“ I shall have to quarantine this fellow, in the long run, 
Bluewater ! I do believe if I were to take him to Lambeth 
Palace, or even to St. James’s, he’d thrust his oar into the 
archbishop’s benedictions, or the queen’s caudle-cup !” 

“ Well, Sir Gervaise, where would be the great harm, if I 
did ? A man as knows the use of an oar, may be trusted 
with one, even in a church, or an abbey. When your honour 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


127 


comes to hear what the dishes was, as Sir Wycherly’s cook 
had never heard on, you’ll think it as great a cur’osity as I do 
myself. If I had just leave to name ’em over, I think as both 
you gentlemen would look at it as remarkable.” 

“ What are they. Galley go ?” inquired Blue water, putting 
one of his long legs over an arm of the adjoining chair, in 
order to indulge himself in a yarn with his friend’s steward, 
with greater freedom ; for he greatly delighted in Galleygo’s 
peculiarities ; seeing just enough of the fellow to find amuse- 
ment, without annoyance in them. “ I’ll answer for Sir 
Gervaise, who is always a little diffident about boasting of 
the superiority of a ship, over a house.” 

“ Yes, your honour, that he is — that is just one of Sir 
Jarvy’s weak p’ints, as a body might say. Now, I never goes 
ashore, without trimming sharp up, and luffing athwart every 
person’s hawse, I fall in with ; which is as much as to tell 
’em, I belongs to a flag-ship, and a racer, and a craft as hasn’t 
her equal on salt-water ; no disparagement to the bit of 
bunting at the mizzen-top-gallant-mast-head of the CaBsar, or 
to the ship that carries it. I hopes, as we are so well ac- 
quainted, Admiral Bluewater, no ofience wdll be taken.” 

“ Where none is meant, none ought to be taken, my friend. 
Now let us hear your bill-of-fare.” 

“ Well, sir, the very first dish I mentioned to Mrs. Larder, 
Sir Wycherly’s cook, was lobscous; and, would you believe it, 
gentlemen, the poor woman had never heard of it ! I began 
with a light hand, as it might be, just not to overwhelm her 
with knowledge, at a blow, as Sir Jarvy captivated the French 
frigate with the upper tier of guns, that he might take her 
alive, like.” 

“ And the lady knew nothing of a lobscous — neither of its 
essence, nor nature ?” 

“ There’s no essences as is ever put in a lobscous, besides 


128 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


potalies, Admiral Bluewater ; thof we make ’em in the old 
Planter ” — nautice for Plantagenet — “ in so liquorish a fashion, 
you might well think they even had Jamaiky, in ’em. No, 
potaties is the essence of lobscous ; and a very good thing is a 
potatie, Sir Jarvy, when a ship’s company has been on salted 
oakum for a few months.” 

“ Well, what was the next dish the good woman broke 
down under ?” asked the rear-admiral, fearful the master 
might order the servant to quit the room ; while he, himself, 
was anxious to get rid of any further political discussion. 

“ Well, sir, she knowed no more of a chowder, than if the 
sea wern’t in the neighbourhood, and there wern’t such a thing 
as a fish in all England. When I talked to her of a chowder, 
she gave in, like a Spaniard at the fourth or fifth broadside.” 

“ Such ignorance is disgraceful, and betokens a decline in 
civilization ! But, you hoisted out more knowledge for her 
benefit, Galleygo — small doses of learning are poor things.” 

“ Yes, your honour ; just like weak grog — ^burning the 
priming, without starting the shot. To be sure, I did. Admiral 
Blue. I just named to her burgoo, and then I mentioned duff 
{anglice dough) to her, but she denied that there was any such 
things in the cookery-book. Do you know. Sir Jarvy, as these 
here shore craft get their dinners, as our master gets the sun ; 
all out of a book as it might be. Awful tidings, too, gentle- 
men, about the Pretender’s son ; and I s’pose we shall have to 
take the fleet up into Scotland, as I fancy them ’ere sogers will 
not make much of a hand in settling law ?” 

“ And have you honoured us with a visit, just to give us an 
essay on dishes, and to tell us what you intend to do with the 
fleet ?” demanded Sir Gervaise, a little more sternly than he 
was accustomed to speak to the steward. 

“ Lord bless you. Sir Jarvy, I didn’t dream of one or 
t’other ! As for telling you, or Admiral Blue, (so the sea- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


129 


men used to call the second in rank,) here, any thing about 
lobscous, or chowder, why, it would be carrying coals to New 
Market. I’ve fed ye both with all such articles, when ye was 
nothing hut young gentlemen ; and when you w^as no longer 
young gentlemen, too, but a couple of sprightly luffs, of nine- 
teen. And as for moving the fleet, I know, well enough, that 
will never happen, without our talking it over in the old 
Planter’s cabin ; which is a much more nat’ral place for such 
a discourse, than any house in England !” 

“ May I take the liberty of inquiring, then, what did bring 
you here ?” 

“ That you may, with all my heart. Sir Jarvy, for I likes 
to answer your questions. My errand is not to your honour 
this time, though you are my master. It’s no great matter, 
after all, being just to hand this bit of a letter over to Admiral 
Blue.” 

“ And where did this letter come from, and how did it 
happen to fall into your hands ?” demanded Blue water, look- 
ing at the superscription, the writing of which he appeared to 
recognise. 

“ It hails from Lun’nun, I hear ; and they tell me it’s to 
be a great secret that you’ve got it, at all. The history of the 
matter is just this. An officer got in to-night, with orders for 
us, carrying sail as hard as his shay would bear. It seems he 
fell in with Master Atwood, as he made his land-fall, and be- 
ing acquainted with that gentleman, he just whipped out his 
orders, and sent ’em off to the right man. Then he laid his 
course for the landing, wishing to get aboard of the Dublin, to 
which he is ordered ; but falling in with our barge, as I landed, 
he wanted to know the where-away of Admiral Blue, here ; 
believing him to be afloat. Some ’un telling him as I was a 
friend and servant of both admirals, as it might be, he turned 
himself over to me for advice. So I promised to deliver the 


130 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


letter, as I had a thousand afore, and knowed the way of doing 
such things ; and he gives me the letter, under special orders, 
like ; that is to say, it was to be handed to the rear-admiral 
as it might he under the lee of the mizzen-stay-sail, or in a 
private fashion. Well, gentlemen, you both knows I under- 
stand that, too, and so I undertook the job.” 

“ And I have got to he so insignificant a person that I pass 
for no one, in your discriminating mind. Master Galleygo ! ’ 
exclaimed the vice-admiral, sharply. “ I have suspected as 
much, these five-and-twenty years.” 

“Lord bless you. Sir Jarvy, how flag-officers will make 
mistakes sometimes ! They’re mortal, I says to the people of 
the galley, and have their appetites false, just like the young 
gentlemen, when they get athwart-hawse of a body, I says. 
Now, I count Admiral Blue and yourself pretty much as one 
man, seeing that you keep few, or no secrets from each other. 
I know’d ye both as young gentlemen, and then you loved one 
another like twins ; and then I know’d ye as lufis, when ye’d 
walk the deck the whole watch, spinning yarns ; and then 
I know’d ye as Pillardees and Arrestee, though one pillow 
might have answered for both ; and as for Arrest, I never 
know’d either of ye to get into that scrape. As for telling a 
secret to one, I’ve always looked upon it as pretty much telling 
it to t’other.” 

The two admirals exchanged glances, and the look of 
kindness that each met in the eyes of his friend removed every 
shadow that had been cast athwart their feelings, by the pre- 
vious discourse. 

“ That will do, Galleygo,” returned Sir Gervaise, mildly. 
“You’re a good fellow in the main, though a villanously 
rough one — ” 

“ A little of old Boreus, Sir Jarvy,” interrupted the steward, 
with a grim smile ; “ but it blows harder at sea than it does 


THE TWO A D M I K A L S . 


131 


ashore. These chaps on land, ar’n’t battened down, and 
caulked for such weather, as we sons of Neptun’ is obligated 
to face.” 

“ Gluite true, and so good-night. Admiral Bluewater and 
myself wish to confer together, for half an hour ; all that 
it is proper for you to know, shall be communicated another 
time.” 

“ Good-night, and God bless your honour. Good-night, 
Admiral Blue : we three is the men as can keep any secret as 
ever floated, let it draw as much water as it pleases.” 

Sir Gervaise Oakes stopped in his walk, and gazed at his 
friend with manifest interest, as he perceived that Admiral 
Bluewater was running over his letter for the third time. 
Being now without a witness, he did not hesitate to express 
his apprehensions. 

“ ’Tis as I feared, Dick !” he cried. “ That letter is from 
some prominent partisan of Edward Stuart ?” 

The rear-admiral turned his eyes on the face of his friend, 
with an expression that was difficult to read ; and then he ran 
over the contents of the epistle, for the fourth time. 

“ A set of precious rascals they are, Gervaise !” at length 
the rear-admiral exclaimed. “ If the whole court was culled, 
I question if enough honesty could be found to leaven one 
puritan scoundrel. Tell me if you know this hand, Oakes ? 
I question if you ever saw it before.” 

The superscription of the letter was held out to Sir Ger- 
vaise, who, after a close examination, declared himself unac- 
quainted with the viTiting. 

“ I thought as much,” resumed Bluewater, carefully tear- 
ing the signature from the bottom of the page, and burning it 
in a candle ; “let this disgraceful part of the secret die, at 
least. The fellow who wrote this, has put ‘ confidential’ at 
the top of his miserable scrawl ; and a most confident scoun- 


132 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


drel he is, for his pains. However, no man has a right to 
thrust himself, in this rude manner, between me and my old- 
est friend ; and least of all will I consent to keep this piece of 
treachery from your knowledge. I do more than the rascal 
merits in concealing his name ; nevertheless, I shall not deny 
myself the pleasure of sending him such an answer as he de- 
serves. Read that, Oakes, and then say if keelhauling would 
be too good for the waiter.” 

Sir Gervaise took the letter in silence, though not without 
great surprise, and began to peruse it. As he proceeded, the 
colour mounted to his temples, and once he dropped his hand, 
to cast a look of wonder and indignation towards his com- 
panion. That the reader may see how much occasion there 
was for both these feelings, we shall give the communication 
entire. It was couched in the following words : 

“ Dear Admiral Bluewater : 

“ Our ancient friendship, and I am proud to add, affinity 
of blood, unite in inducing me to write a line, at this interest- 
ing moment. Of the result of this rash experiment of the 
Pretender’s son, no prudent man can entertain a doubt. 
Still, the boy may give us some trouble, before he is disposed 
of altogether. We look to all our friends, therefore, for their 
most efficient exertions, and most prudent co-operation. On 
you, every reliance is placed ; and I wish I could say as much 
for every flag-officer ajioat. Some distrust— unmerited, I sin- 
cerely hope— exists in a very high quarter, touching the loyalty 
of a certain commander-in-chief, who is so completely under 
your observation, that it is felt enough is done in hinting the 
fact to one of your political tendencies. The king said, this 
morning, Veil, dere isht Bluevater ] of hvni we are shure asht 
of ter sun.’ You stand excellently well there, to my great 
delight ; and I need only say, be watchful and prompt. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS 


133 


“ Yours, with the most sincere faith ai.d attachment, my 
dear Blue water, &c., &c. 

“ Rear-Admiral Bluewater. 

“ P* S. — I have just heard that they have sent you the red 
riband. The king himself, was in this.” 

When Sir Gervaise had perused this precious epistle to 
himself, he read it slowly, and in a steady, clear voice, aloud. 
When he had ended, he dropped the paper, and stood gazing 
at his friend. 

“ One would think the fellow some exquisite satirist,” said 
Bluewater, laughing. “ / am to be vigilant, and see that 
you do not mutiny, and run away with the fleet to the High- 
lands, one of these foggy mornings I Carry it up into Scot- 
land, as Galleygo has it ! Now, what is your opinion of that 
letter ?” 

“ That all courtiers are knaves, and all princes ungrateful. 
I should think my loyalty to the good came^ if not to the man, 
the last in England to be suspected.” 

“ Nor is it suspected, in the smallest degree. My life on it, 
neither the reigning monarch, nor his confidential servants, 
are such arrant dunces, as to be guilty of so much weakness. 
No, this masterly move is intended to secure me, by creating a 
confidence that they think no generous-minded man w^ould be- 
tray. It is a hook, delicately baited to catch a gudgeon, and 
not an order to watch a whale.” 

“ Can the scoundrels be so mean — nay, dare they be so 
bold ! They must have known you would show me the letter.” 

“ Not they — they have reasoned on my course, as they 
would on their own. Nothing catches a weak man sooner 
than a pretended confidence of this nature ; and I dare say 
this blackguard rates me just high enough to fancy I may be 
duped in this flimsy manner. Put your mind at rest ; King 

12 


134 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


George knows he may confide in you, while I think it probable 
I am distrusted.” 

“ I hope, Dick, you do not suspect my discretion ! My own 
secret would not he half so sacred to me.” 

“ I know that, full well. Of you, I entertain no distrust, 
either in heart or head ; of myself, I am not quite so certain. 
When we feel, we do not always reason ; and there is as much 
feeling, as any thing else, in this matter.” 

“Not a line is there, in all my despatches, that go to be- 
tray the slightest distrust of me, or any one else. You are 
spoken of, hut it is in a manner to gratify you, rather than to 
alarm. Take, and read them all ; I intended to show them to 
you, as soon as we had got through with that cursed discus- 
sion.” 

As Sir Gervaise concluded, he threw the whole package of 
letters on the table, before his friend. 

“ It will he time enough, when you summon me regularly 
to a council of war,” returned Bluewater, laying the letters 
gently aside. “ Perhaps we had better sleep on this affair ; 
in the morning we shall meet with cooler heads, and just as 
warm hearts.” 

“ Good-night, Dick,” said Sir Gervaise, holding out both 
hands for the other to shake as he passed him, in quitting the 
room. 

“ Good-night, Gervaise ; let this miserable devil go over- 
board, and think no more of him. I have half a mind to ask 
you for a leave, to-morrow, just to run up to London, and cut 
off his ears.” 

Sir Gervaise laughed and nodded his head, and the two 
friends parted, with feelings as kind as ever had distinguished 
their remarkable career. 


CHAPTER VIll. 


“ Look to’t, think on’t, I do not use to jest. 

Thursday is near ; lay hand on heart, advise ; 

An’ you be mine, I’ll give you to my friend ; 

An’ you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i’ the streets.” 

Romeo anh Juubt. 

Wychecombe Hall had most of the peculiarities of a bach- 
elor’s dwelling, in its internal government ; nor was it, in any 
manner, behind, or, it might be better to say, before, the age, 
in its modes and customs connected with jollifications. When 
its master relaxed a little, the servants quite uniformly imita- 
ted his example. Sir Wycherly kept a plentiful table, and the 
servants’ hall fared nearly as well as the dining-room ; the 
single article of wine excepted. In lieu of the latter, however, 
was an unlimited allowance of double-brewed ale ; and the 
difference in the potations was far more in the name, than in 
the quality of the beverages. The master drank port ; for, in 
the middle of the last century, few Englishmen had better 
wine — and port, too, that was by no means of a very remarka- 
ble delicacy, but which, like those who used it, was rough, hon- 
est, and strong ; while the servant had his malt liquor of the 
very highest stamp ’ and flavour. Between indifferent wine 
and excellent ale, the distance is not interminable ; and Sir 
Wycherly’ s household, was well aware of the fact, having fre- 
quently instituted intelligent practical comparisons, by means 
of which, all but the butler and Mrs. Larder had come to the 
conclusion to stand by the home-brewed. 

On the present occasion, not a soul in the house was igno- 


136 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


rant of the reason why the baronet was making a night of it. 
Every man, woman, and child, in or about the Hall, was a de- 
voted partisan of the house of Hanover j and as soon as it was 
understood that this feeling was to be manifested by drinking 
“ success to King George, and God bless him,” on the one side ; 
and “ confusion to the Pretender, and his mad son,” on the 
other ; all under the roof entered into the duty, with a zeal 
that might have seated a usurper on a throne, if potations 
could do it. 

When Admiral Bluewater, therefore, left the chamber of 
his friend, the signs of mirth and of a regular debauch were 
so very obvious, that a little curiosity to watch the result, and 
a disinclination to go off to his ship so soon, united to induce 
him to descend into the rooms below, with a view to get a 
more accurate knowledge of the condition of the household. 
In crossing the great hall, to enter the drawing-room, he 
encountered Galleygo, when the following discourse took 
place. 

“ I should think the master-at-arms has not done his duty, 
and dowsed the glim below. Master Steward,” said the rear- 
admiral, in his quiet way, as they met ; “ the laughing, and 
singing, and hiccupping, are all upon a very liberal scale for a 
respectable country-house.” 

Galleygo touched the lock of hair on his forehead, with 
one hand, and gave his trowsers a slue with the other, before 
he answered ; which he soon did, however, though with a 
voice a little thicker than was usual with him, on account of 
his having added a draught or two to those he had taken pre- 
viously to visiting Sir Gervaise’s dressing-room ; and which 
said additional draught or two, had produced some such effect 
on his system, as the fresh drop produces on the cup that is 
already full. 

“ That’s just it. Admiral Blue,” returned the steward, in 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


137 


passing good-humour, though still sober enough to maintain 
the decencies, after his own fashion ; “ that’s just it, your 
honour. They’ve passed the word below to let the lights 
stand for further orders, and have turned the hands up for a 
frolic Such ale as they has, stowed in the lower hold of this 
house, like leaguers in the ground-tier, it does a body’s heart 
good to conter’plate. All hands is bowsing out their jibs on it, 
sir, and the old Hall will soon be carrying as much sail as she 
can stagger under. It’s nothing but loose-away and sheet- 
home.” 

“ Ay, ay, Galleygo, this may be well enough for the peo- 
ple of the household, if Sir Wycherly allows it ; but it ill be- 
comes the servants of guests to fall into this disorder. If I 
find Tom has done any thing amiss, he will hear more of it ; 
and as your own master is not here to admonish you, I’ll just 
take the liberty of doing it for him, since I know it would 
mortify him exceedingly to learn that his steward had done 
any thing to disgrace himself.” 

“ Lord bless your dear soul. Admiral Blue, take just as 
many liberties as you think fit, and I’ll never pocket one on 
’em. I know’d you, when you was only a young gentleman, 
and now you’re a rear. You’re close on our heels ; and by 
the time we are a full admiral, you’ll be something like a 
vice. I looks upon you as bone of our bone, and flesh of our 
flesh, — Pillardees and Arrestees — and I no more minds a 
setting-down from your honour, than I does from Sir Jarvy, 
hisself.” 

“ I believe that is true enough, Galleygo ; but take 
my advice, and knock olT with the ale for to-night. Can 
you tell me how the land lies, with the rest of the com- 
pany : 

“ You couldn’t have asked a better person, your honour, as 
I’ve just been passing through all the rooms, from a sort of 

13 * 


138 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


habit I has, sir ; for, d’ye see, I thought I was in the old 
Planter, and that it was my duty to overlook every thing, as 
usual. The last pull at the ale, put that notion in my head ; 
but it’s gone now, and I see how matters is. Yes, sir, the 
mainmast of a church isn’t stiffer and more correct-like, than 
my judgment is, at this blessed moment. Sir Wycherly guv’ 
me a glass of his black-strap, as I ran through the dining- 
room, and told me to drink ‘ Confusion to the Pretender,’ 
which I did, with hearty good-will ; but his liquor will no 
more lay alongside of the ale they’ve down on the orlop, than 
a Frenchman will compare with an Englishman. What’s 
your opinion. Admiral Blue, consarning this cruise of the Pre- 
tender’s son, up in the Highlands of Scotland ?” 

Bluewater gave a quick, distrustful glance at the steward, 
for he knew that the fellow was half his time in the outer 
cabin and pantries of the Plantagenet, and he could not tell 
how much of his many private dialogues with Sir Gervaise, 
might have been overheard. Meeting with nothing but the 
unmeaning expression of one half-seas-over, his uneasiness in- 
stantly subsided. 

“ I think it a gallant enterprise, Galleygo,” he answered ; 
too manly even to feign what he did not believe ; “ but I fear 
as a cruise, it will not bring much prize-money. You have 
forgotten you were about to tell me how the land lies. Sir 
Wycherly, Mr. Dutton, Mr. Rotherham, are still at the table, 
I fancy — are these all ? What have become of the two 
young gentlemen ?” 

“ There’s none ashore, sir,” said Galleygo, promptly, accus- 
tomed to give that appellation only to midshipmen. 

“ I mean the two Mr. Wychecombes ; one of whom, I had 
forgot, is actually an officer.” 

“ Yes, sir, and a most partic’lar fine officer he is, as every 
body says. Well, sir, he's with the ladies ; while his name- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


139 


sake has gone back to the table, and has put luff upon luff, to 
fetch up leeway.” 

“ And the ladies — what have they done with themselves, in 
this scene of noisy revelry ?” 

“ They’se in yonder state-room, your honour. As soon as 
they found how the ship w'as heading, like all women-craft, 
they both makes for the best harbour they could run into. Yes, 
they’se yonder.” 

As Galleygo pointed to the door of the room he meant, 
Bluewater proceeded towards it, parting with the steward 
after a few more words of customary, but very useless caution. 
The tap of the admiral was answered by Wycherly in person, 
who opened the door, and made way for his superior to enter, 
with a respectful obeisance. There was but a single candlo in 
the little parlour, in -which the two females had taken refuge 
from the increasing noise of the debauch ; and this was due to 
a pious expedient of Mildred’s, in extinguishing the others, with 
a view to conceal the traces of tears that were still visible on 
her own and her mother’s cheeks. The rear-admiral was, at 
first, struck with this comparative obscurity ; but it soon ap- 
peared to him appropriate to the feelings of the party assem- 
bled in the room. Mrs. Dutton received him with the ease 
she had acquired in her early life, and the meeting passed as a 
matter of course, with persons temporarily residing under the 
same roof. 

“ Our friends appear to be enjoying themselves,” said Blue- 
water, when a shout from the dining-room forced itself on the 
ears of all present. “ The loyalty of Sir Wycherly seems to be 
of proof.” 

“ Oh ! Admiral Bluewater,” exclaimed the distressed wife, 
feeling, momentarily, getting the better of discretion ; “ do 
you — can you call such a desecration of God’s image enjoy- 
ment ?” 


140 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Not justly, perhaps, Mrs. Dutton ; and yet it is what mil- 
lions mistake for it. This mode of celebrating any great event, 
and even of illustrating what we think our principles, is, I fear, 
a vice not only of our age, but of our country.” 

“ And yet, neither you, nor Sir Gervaise Oakes, I see, find 
it necessary to give such a proof of your attachment to the 
house of Hanover, or of your readiness to serve it with your 
time and persons.” 

“ You will remember, my good lady, that both Oakes and 
myself are flag-officers in command, and it would never do for 
us to fall into a debauch in sight of our own ships. I am 
glad to see, however, that Mr. Wychecombe, here, prefers 
such society as I find him in, to the pleasures of the table.” 

Wycherly bowed, and Mildred cast an expressive, not to 
say grateful, glance towards the speaker ; but her mother 
pursued the discourse, in which she found a little relief to her 
suppressed emotion. 

“ God be thanked for that !” she exclaimed, half-uncon- 
scious of the interpretation that might be put on her words ; 
“ All that we have seen of Mr. Wychecombe would lead us to 
believe that this is not an unusual, or an accidental forbear- 
ance.” 

“ So much the more fortunate for him. I congratulate you, 
young sir, on this triumph of principle, or of temperament, or 
of both. We belong to a profession, in which the bottle is an 
enemy more to be feared, than any that the king can give us. 
A sailor can call in no ally as efficient in subduing this mortal 
foe, as an intelligent and cultivated mind. The man who 
really thinks, much, seldom drinks, much ; but there are 
hours — nay, weeks and months of idleness in a ship, in which 
the temptation to resort to unnatural excitement in quest of 
pleasure, is too strong for minds, that are not well fortified, to 
resist. This is particularly the case with commanders, who 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


141 


find themselves isolated by their rank, and oppressed with re* 
sponsibility, in the privacy of their own cabins, and get to 
make a companion of the bottle, by way of seeking relief from 
uncomfortable thoughts, and of creating a society of their own. 
I deem the critical period of a sailor’s life, to be the first few 
years of solitary command.” 

“ How true ! — how true !” murmured Mrs. Dutton. “ Oh ! 
that cutter — that cruel cutter !” 

The truth flashed upon the recollection of Bluewater, at 
this unguarded, and instantly regretted exclamation. Many 
years before, when only a captain himself, he had been a 
member of a court-martial which cashiered a lieutenant of the 
name of Dutton, for grievous misconduct, while in command 
of a cutter ; the fruits of the bottle. From the first, he 
thought the name familiar to him ; but so many similar things 
had happened in the course of forty years’ service, that this 
particular incident had been partially lost in the obscurity of 
time. It was now completely recalled, however ; and that, 
too, with all its attendant circumstances. The recollection 
served to give the rear-admiral renewed interest in the unhappy 
wife, and lovely daughter, of the miserable delinquent. He 
had been applied to, at the time, for his interest in effecting 
the restoration of the guilty officer, or even to procure for him, 
the hopeless station he now actually occupied ; but he had 
sternly refused to be a party in placing any man in authority, 
who was the victim of a propensity that not only disgraced 
himself, but which, in the peculiar position of a sailor, equally 
jeoparded the honour of the country, and risked the lives of all 
around him. He was aware that the last application had 
been successful, by means of a court influence it was very 
unusual to exert in cases so insignificant ; and, then, he had, 
for years, lost sight of the criminal and his fortunes. This 
unexpected revival of his old impressions, caused him to feel 


142 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


like an ancient friend of the wife and daughter ; for well could 
he recall a scene he had with both, in which the struggle be- 
tween his humanity and his principles had been so violent as 
actually to reduce him to tears. Mildred had forgotten the 
name of this particular officer, having been merely a child ; 
but well did Mrs. Dutton remember it, and with fear and 
trembling had she come that day, to meet him at the Hall. 
The first look satisfied her that she was forgotten, and she had 
struggled herself, to bury in oblivion, a scene which was one 
of the most painful of her life. The unguarded expression, 
mentioned, entirely changed the state of affairs. 

“ Mrs. Dutton,” said Bluewater, kindly taking a hand of 
the distressed wife; “I believe w^e are old friends; if, after 
what has passed, you will allow me so to consider myself.” 

“ Ah ! Admiral Bluewater, my memory needed no ad- 
monisher to tell me that. Your sympathy and kindness are 
as grateful to me, now, as they were in that dreadful moment, 
when w^e met before.” 

“ And I had the pleasure of seeing this young lady, more 
than once, on that unpleasant occasion. This accounts for a 
fancy that has fairly haunted me throughout the day ; for, 
from the instant my eye fell on Miss Mildred, it struck me 
that the face, and most of all, its expression, w^as familiar to 
me. Certainly it is not a countenance, once seen, easily to be 
forgotten.” 

“ Mildred was then but a child, sir, and your recollection 
must have been a fancy, indeed, as children of her age seldom 
make any lasting impression on the mind, particularly in the 
w^ay of features.” 

“ It is not the features that I recognize, but the expression ; 
and that, I need not tell the young lady’s mother, is an expres- 
sion not so very easily forgotten. I dare say Mr. Wycheoombe 
is ready enough to vouch for the truth of what I say.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


143 


*■ Hark !” exclaimed Mrs. Dutton, who was sensitively 
alive to any indication of the progress of the debauch. “ There 
is great confusion in the dining-room ! — I hope the gentlemen 
are of one mind as respects this rising in Scotland !” 

“ If there is a Jacobite among them, he will have a warm 
time of it ; with Sir Wycherly, his nephew, and the vicar — 
all three of whom are raging lions, in the way of loyalty. 
There does, indeed, seem something out of the way, for those 
sounds, I should think, are the feet of servants, running to and 
fro. If the servants’ -hall is in the condition I suspect, it will 
as much need the aid of the parlour, as the parlour can 
possibly — ” 

A tap at the door caused Bluewater to cease speaking ; 
and as Wycherly threw open the entrance, Galleygo appeared 
on the threshold, by this time reduced to the necessity of hold- 
ing on by the casings. 

“ Well, sir,” said the rear-admiral, sternly, for he was no 
longer disposed to trifle with any of the crapulous set ; “ well, 
sir, what impertinence has brought you here ?” 

“ No impertinence at all, your honour ; w^e carries none of 
that, in the old Planter. There being no young gentlemen, 
hereabouts, to report proceedings, I thought I’d just step in 
and do the duty with my own tongue. We has so many 
reports in our cabin, that there isn’t an officer in the fleet that 
can make ’em better, as myself, sir.” 

“ There are a hundred who would spend fewer words on 
any thing. What is your business ?” 

“ Why, sir, just to report one flag struck, and a commander- 
in-chief on his beam-ends.” 

“ Good God ! Nothing has happened to Sir Gervaise — 
speak, fellow, or I’ll have you sent out of this Babel, and off 
to the ship, though it were midnight.” 

“ It be pretty much that. Admiral Blue ; or past six bells; 


144 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


as any one may see by the ship’s clock on the great companion 
ladder; six bells, going well on to seven — ” 

“ Your business, sir ! what has happened to Sir Gervaise ?” 
repeated Bluewater, shaking his long fore-finger menacingly, 
at the steward. 

“ We are as well, Admiral Blue, as the hour we came over 
the Planter’s side. Sir Jarvy 'will carry sail wfith the best on 
’em, I’ll answer for it, whether the ship floats in old Port Oporto, 
or in a brewer’s vat. Let Sir Jarvy alone for them tricks — 
he wasn’t a young gentleman, for nothing.” 

“ Have a moment’s patience, sir,” put in Wycherly, “ and 
I will go myself, and ascertain the truth.” 

“ I shall make but another inquiry,” continued Admiral 
Bluewater, as Wycherly left the room. 

“ Why, d’ye see, your honour, old Sir Wycherly, who is 
commander-in-chief, along shore here, has capsized in conse- 
quence of carrying sail too hard, in company with younger 
craft ; and they’re now warping him into dock to be over- 
hauled.” 

“ Is this all ! — that was a result to be expected, in such a 
debauch. You need not have put on so ominous a face, for 
this, Galleygo.” 

“ No, sir, so I thought, myself ; and I only tried to look as 
melancholy as a young gentleman who is sent below to report 
a top-gallant-mast over the side, or a studding-sail-boom gone 
in the iron. D’ye remember the time. Admiral Blue, when 
you thought to luff up on the old Planter’s weather-quarter, 
and get between her and the French ninety on three decks, 
and how your stu’n-sails went, one a’ter another, just like so 
many musherrooms breaking in peeling ?” 

Galleygo, who was apt to draw his images from his two 
trades, might have talked on an hour, without interruption ; 
for, while he was uttering the above sentence, Wycherly 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 145 

returned, and reported that their host was seriously, even 
dangerously ill. While doing the honours of his table, he had 
been seized with a fit, which the vicar, a noted three-bottle 
man, feared was apoplexy. Mr. K-otherham had bled the 
patient, who was already a little better, and an express had 
been sent for a medical man. As a matter of course, the 
convives had left the table, and alarm was frightening the 
servants into sobriety. At Mrs. Dutton’s earnest request, 
Wycherly immediately left the room again, forcing Galleygo 
out before him, with a view to get more accurate information 
concerning the baronet’s real situation ; both the mother and 
daughter feeling a real affection for Sir Wycherly ; the kind 
old man having won their hearts by his habitual benevolence, 
and a constant concern for their welfare. 

“ Sic transit gloria mundi,'^ muttered Admiral Bluewater, 
as he threw his tall person, in his own careless manner, on a 
chair, in a dark corner of the room. “ This baronet has fallen 
from his throne, in a moment of seeming prosperity and rev- 
elry ; why may not another do the same ?” 

Mrs. Dutton heard the voice, without distinguishing the 
words, and she felt distressed at the idea that one whom she 
so much respected and loved, might be judged of harshly, by a 
man of the rear-admiral’s character. 

“ Sir Wycherly is one of the kindest-hearted men, breath- 
ing,” she said, a little hurriedly ; “ and there is not a better 
landlord in England. Then he is by no means addicted to 
indulgence at table, more than is customary with gentlemen 
of his station. His loyalty has, no doubt, carried him this 
evening farther than was prudent, or than we could have 
wished.” 

“ I have every disposition to think favourably of our poor 
host, my dear Mrs. Dutton, and we seamen are not accustomed 

to judge a Ion vivant too harshly.” 

13 


146 ’ 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Ah I Admiral Bluewater, ycni, who have so wide-spread a 
reputation for sobriety and correct deportment ! Well do I re- 
member how I trembled, when I heard your name mentioned 
as one of the leading members of that dreadful court !” 

“ You let your recollections dw'ell too much on these un- 
pleasant subjects, Mrs. Dutton, and I should like to see you 
setting an example of greater cheerfulness to your sweet 
daughter. I could not befriend you, then, for my oath and my 
duty were both against it ; but, now, there exists no possible 
reason, why I should not ; while there does exist almost every 
possible disposition, why I should. This sweet child interests 
me in a way I can hardly describe.” 

Mrs. Dutton was silent and thoughtful. The years of Ad- 
miral Bluewater did not absolutely forbid his regarding Mil- 
dred’s extreme beauty, wdth the eyes of ordinary admiration ; 
but his language, and most of all, his character, ought to repel 
the intrusive suspicion. Still Mildred was surpassingly lovely, 
and men were surpassingly w^eak in matters of love. Maijy a 
hero had passed a youth of self-command and discretion, to 
consummate some act of exceeding folly, of this very nature, in 
the decline of life ; and bitter experience had taught her to be 
distrustful. Nevertheless, she could not, at once, bring herself 
to think ill of one, whose character she had so long respected ; 
and, with all the rear-admiral’s directness of manner, there 
was so much real and feeling delicacy, blended with the breed- 
ing of a gentleman-like sailor, that it was not easy to suppose 
he had any other motives than those he saw fit to avow. 
Mildred had made many a friend, by a sweetness of coun- 
tenance, that was even more winning, than her general beauty 
of face and form was attractive ; and why should not this re- 
spectable old seaman be of the number. 

This train of thought was interrupted by the sudden and 
unwelcome appearance of Dutton. He had just returned from 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


147 


the bed-side of Sir Wycherly, and now came to seek his wife 
and daughter, to bid them prepare to enter the chariot, which 
was in waiting to convey them. home. The miserable man 
was not intoxicated, in the sense which deprives a man of the 
use of speech and limbs; hut he had drunk quite enough to 
awaken the demon within him, and to lay hare the secrets of 
his true character. If any thing, his nerves were better strung 
than common ; but the wine had stirred up all the energies of 
a being, whose resolutions seldom took the direction of correct 
feeling, or of right doing. The darkness of the room, and a 
slight confusion which nevertheless existed in his brain, pre- 
vented him from noticing the person of his superior, seated, as 
the latter w^as, in the dark corner ; and he believed himself 
once more alone with those who were so completely dependent 
on his mercy, and who had so long been the subjects of his 
brutality and tyranny. 

“ I hope Sir Wycherly is better, Dutton,” the wife com- 
menced, fearful that her husband might expose himself and 
her, before he was aware of the presence in which he stood. 
“Admiral Bluewater is as anxious, as we are ourselves, to 
know his real state.” 

“ Ay, you women are all pity and feeling for baronets and 
rear-admirals,” answered Dutton, throwing himself rudely into 
a chair, with his back towards the stranger, in an attitude 
completely to exclude the latter from his view ; “ while a hus- 
band, or father, might die a hundred deaths, and not draw a 
look of pity from your beautiful eyes, or a kind word from your 
devilish tongues.” 

“ Neither Mildred nor I, merit this from you, Dutton !” 

“ No, you’re both perfection ; like mother, like child. 
Haven’t I been, lifty times, at death’s door, with this very 
complaint of Sir Wycherly ’s, and did either of you ever send 
for an apothecary, even ?” 


148 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ You have been occasionally indisposed, Dutton, but never 
apoplectic ; and "we have always thought a little sleep would 
restore you ; as, indeed, it always has.” 

“ What business had you to think ? Surgeons think, and 
medical men, and it was your duty to send for the nearest pro- 
fessional man, to look after one you’re bound both to honour 
and obey. You are your own mistress, Martha, I do suppose, 
in a certain degree ; and what can’t be cured must be endured ; 
but Mildred is my child ; and I’ll have her respect and love, if 
I break both your hearts in order to get at them.” 

“ A pious daughter always respects her parent, Dutton,” 
said the wife, trembling from head to foot ; “ but love must 
come willingly, or, it will not come at all.” 

“ We’ll see as to that, Mrs. Martha Dutton ; we’ll see as 
to that. Come hither, Mildred ; I have a word to say to you, 
W'hich may as well be said at once.” 

Mildred, trembling like her mother, drew near ; but with a 
feeling of filial piety, that no harshness could entirely smother, 
she felt anxious to prevent the father from further exposing 
himself, in the presence of Admiral Bluewater. With this 
view, then, and with this view only, she summoned firmness 
enough to speak. 

“ Father,” she said, “ had we not better defer our family 
matters, until we are alone ?” 

Under ordinary circumstances, Bluewater would not have 
waited for so palpable a hint, for he would have retired on 
the first appearance of any thing so disagreeable as a misun- 
derstanding between man and wife. But, an ungovernable 
interest in the lovely girl, who stood trembling at her father’s 
knee, caused him to forget his habitual delicacy of feeling, and 
to overlook what might perhaps be termed almost a law of 
society. Instead of moving, therefore, as Mildred had both 
hoped and expected, he remained motionless in his seat. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


149 


Dutton’s mind was too obtuse to comprehend his daughter’s 
allusions, in the absence of ocular evidence of a stranger’s 
presence, and his wrath was too much excited to permit him 
to think much of any thing but his own causes of indignation. 

“ Stand more in front of me, Mildred,” he answered, angrily. 
“ More before my face, as becomes one who don’t know her duty 
to her parent, and needs be taught it.” 

“ Oh ! Dutton,” exclaimed the afflicted wife ; “do not-— 
do not — accuse Mildred of being undutiful ! You know not 
what you say — know not her obliga — you cannot know her 
heart, or you would not use these cruel imputations !” 

“ Silence, Mrs. Martha Dutton — my business is not with 
you, at present, but with this young lady, to whom, I hope, I 
may presume to speak a little plainly, as she is my own child. 
Silence, then, Mrs. Martha Dutton. If my memory is not 
treacherous, you once stood up before God’s altar with me, 
and there vow’d to love, honour, and oie?/. Yes, that was the 
word; obey, Mrs. Martha Dutton.” 

“ And what did you promise, at the same time, Frank ?” 
exclaimed the wife, from whose bruised spirit this implied 
accusation was torn in an agony of mental sufiering. 

“Nothing but what I have honestly and manfully per- 
formed. I promised to provide for you ; to give you food and 
raiment ; to let you bear my name, and stand before the world 
in the honourable character of honest Frank Dutton’s wife.” 

“ Honourable !” murmured the wife, loud enough to be 
heard by both the Admiral and Mildred, and yet in a tone so 
smothered, as to elude the obtuse sense of hearing, that long 
excess had left her husband. When this expressive word had 
broken out of her very heart, however, she succeeded in sup- 
pressing her voice, and sinking into a chair, concealed her face 
in her hands, in silence. 

“Mildred, come hither,” resumed the brutalized parent. 

13 ^ 


150 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


^*‘You are my daughter, and w'hatever others have promised 
at the altar, and forgotten, a law of nature teaches you to obey 
me. You have two admirers, either of whom you ought to be 
glad to secure, though there is a great preference between 
them — ” 

“ Father !” exclaimed Mildred, every feeling of her sensi- 
tive nature revolting at this coarse allusion to a connection, 
and to sentiments, that she was accustomed to view as among 
the most sacred and private of her moral being. “ Surely, you 
cannot mean what you say !” 

“ Like mother, like child ! Let but disobedience and dis- . 
respect get possession of a wife, and they are certain to run 
through a whole, family, even though there were a dozen 
children ! Harkee, Miss Mildred, it is you who don’t happen 
to know what you say, while I understand myself as well as 
most parents. Your mother would never acquaint you with 
what I feel it a duty to put plainly before your judgment ; and, , 
therefore, I expect you to listen as becomes a dutiful and af- 
fectionate child. You can secure either of these young Wyche- 
combes, and either of them would be a good match for a poor, 
disgraced, sailing-master’s daughter.” 

• “ Father, I shall sink through the floor, if you say another 

word, in this cruel manner !” 

“ No, dear ; you’ll neither sink nor swim, unless it be by 
making a bad, or a good choice. Mr. Thomas Wychecombe 
is Sir Wycherly’s heir, and must be the next baronet, and 
possessor of this estate. Of course he is much the best thing, 
and you ought to give him a preference.” 

“ Dutton, can you, as a father and a Christian, give such 
heartless counsel to your own child !” exclaimed Mrs. Dutton, 
inexpressibly shocked at the want of principle, as well as at 
the want of feeling, discovered in her husband’s advice. 

“ Mrs. Martha Dutton, 1 can ; and believe the counsel to 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


151 


be any thing but heartless, too. Do you wish your daughter to 
be the wife of a miserable signal-station keeper, when she may 
become Lady Wychecombe, with a little prudent management, 
and the mistress of this capital old house, and noble estate V* 

“Father — father,” interrupted Mildred, soothingly, though 
ready to sink with shame at the idea of Admiral Bluewater’s 
being an auditor of such a conversation ; “ you forget yourself, 
and overlook my wishes. There is little probability of Mr. 
Thomas Wychecombe’ s ever thinking of me as a wife— or, in- 
deed of any one else’s entertaining such thoughts.” 

“ That will turn out, as you manage matters, Milly. Mr. 
Thomas Wychecombe does not think of you as a wife, quite 
likely, just at this moment j but the largest whales are taken 
by means of very small lines, when the last are properly han- 
dled. This young lieutenant would have you to-morrow ; 
though a more silly thing than for you two to marry, could not 
well be hit upon. He is only a lieutenant ; and though his 
name is so good a one, it does not appear that he has any par- 
ticular right to it.” 

“ And yet, Dutton, you were only a lieutenant when you 
married, and your name was nothing in the way of interest, 
or preferment,” observed the mother, anxious to interpose some 
new feeling between her daughter, and the cruel inference left 
by the former part of her husband’s speech. “ We then thought 
all lay bright before us !” 

“ And so all would lie to this hour, Mrs. Dutton, but for 
that one silly act of mine. A man with the charges of a fam- 
ily on him, little pay, and no fortune, is driven to a thousand 
follies to hide his misery. You do not strengthen your case by 
reminding me of that imprudence. But, Mildred, I do not tell 
you to cut adrift this young Virginian, for he may be of use in 
more ways than one. In the first place, you can play him off 
against Mr. Thomas Wychecombe ; and, in the second place, a 


152 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


lieutenant is likely, one day, to be a captain ; and the wife of 
a captain in His Majesty’s nav}", is no disreputable birth. I 
advise you, girl, to use this youngster as a bait to catch the 
heir with ; and, failing a good bite, to take up -with the lad 
himself.” 

This was said dogmatically, but with a coarseness of man- 
ner that fully corresponded with the looseness of the principles, 
and the utter want of delicacy of feeling that alone could 
prompt such advice. Mrs. Dutton fairly groaned, as she lis- 
tened to her husband, for never before had he so completely 
thrown aside the thin mask of decency that he ordinarily wore ; 
but Mildred, unable to control the burst of wild emotion that 
came over her, broke away from the place she occupied at her 
father’s knee, and, as if blindly seeking protection in any asy- 
lum that she fancied safe, found herself sobbing, as if her heart 
would break, in Admiral Blue water’s arms. 

Dutton followed the ungovernable, impulsive movement, 
with his eye, and for the first time he became aware in whose 
presence he had been exposing his native baseness. Wine 
had not so far the mastery of him, as to blind him to all 
the consequences, though it did stimulate him to a point 
that enabled him to face the momentary mortification of his 
situation. 

“ I beg a thousand pardons, sir,” he said, rising, and bow- 
ing low to his superior ; “I was totally ignorant that I had the 
honour to be in the company of Admiral Bluewater — Admiral 
Blue, I find Jack calls you, sir ; ha-ha-ha — a familiarity which 
is a true sign of love and respect. I never knew a captain, or 
a flag-officer, that got a regular, expressive ship’s name, that 
he wasn’t the delight of the whole service. Yes, sir ; I find 
the people call Sir Gervaise, Little Jarvy, and yourself, Admi- 
ral Blue — ha-ha-ha — an infallible sign of merit in the superior, 
and of love in the men.” 


THE TWO. ADMIRALS. 


153 


“ I ought to apologize, Mr. Dutton, for making one, so 
unexpectedly to myself, in a family council,” returned the 
rear-admiral. “ As for the men, they are no great philos- 
ophers, though tolerable judges of when they are well com- 
manded, and well treated. — But, the hcmr is late, and it 
was my intention to sleep in my own ship, to-night. The 
coach of Sir Wycherly has been ordered to carry me to the 
landing, and I hope to have your permission to see these ladies 
home in it.” 

The answer of Dutton was given with perfect self-posses- 
sion, and in a manner to show that he knew how to exercise 
the courtesies of life, or to receive them, when in the humour. 

“It is an honour, sir, they will not think of declining, if 
my wishes are consulted,” he said. “ Come, Milly, foolish 
girl, dry your tears, and smile on Admiral Bluewater, for his 
condescension. Young women, sir, hardly know how to take 
a joke ; and our ship’s humours are sometimes a little strong 
for them. I tell my dear wife, sometimes — ‘ Wife,’ I say, ‘ His 
Majesty can’t have stout-hearted and stout-handed seamen, 
and the women poets and die-away swains, and all in the 
same individual,’ says I. Mrs. Dutton understands me, sir ; 
and so does little Milly ; who is an excellent girl in the main ; 
though a little addicted to using the eye-pumps, as we have it 
aboard ship, sir.” 

“ And, now, Mr. Dutton, it being understood that I am to 
see the ladies home, will you do me the favour to inquire after 
the condition of Sir Wycherly. One would not wish to quit 
his hospitable roof, in uncertainty as to his actual situation.” 

Dutton was duly sensible of an awkwardness in the pres- 
ence of his superior, and he gladly profited by this commission 
to quit the room ; walking more steadily than if he had not 
been drinking. 

All this time, Mildred hung on Admiral Bluewater’s 


164 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


shoulder, weeping, and unwilling to quit, a place that seemed 
to her, in her fearful agitation, a sort of sanctuary. 

“ Mrs. Dutton,” said Bluewater, first kissing the cheek of 
his lovely burthen, in a manner so parental, that the most 
sensitive delicacy could not have taken the alarm ; “ you will 
succeed better than myself, in quieting the feelings of this 
little trembler. I need hardly say that if I have accidentally 
overheard more than I ought, it is as much a secret with me, 
as it would be with your own brother. The characters of all 
cannot be affected by the mistaken and excited calculations 
of one ; and this occasion has served to make me better ac- 
quainted with you, and your admirable daughter, than I might 
otherwise have been, by means of years of ordinary intercourse.” 

“ Oh ! Admiral Bluewater, do not judge him too harshly ! 
He has been too long at that fatal table, which I fear has 
destroyed poor dear Sir Wycherly, and knew not what he said. 
Never before have I seen him in such a fearful humour, or in 
the least disposed to trifle with, or to wound the feelings of 
this sweet child !” 

“ Her extreme agitation is a proof of this, my good madam, 
and shows all you can wish to say. View me as your sincere 
friend, and place every reliance on my discretion.” 

The wounded mother listened with gratitude, and Mildred 
withdrew from her extraordinary situation, wondering by what 
species of infatuation she could have been led to adopt it. 


CHAPTER IX. 


. -I 


“ Ah, Montague, 

If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand, i 

And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile ! 

Thou lov’st me not ; for, brother, if thou didst, « 

Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood 
That glues my lips, and will not let me speak. 

Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.” 

Kino Henry 

Sir Wycherly had actually been seized with a fit of 
apoplexy. It was the first serious disease he had experienced in 
a long life of health and prosperity ; and the sight of their con- 
descending, good-humored, and indulgent master, in a plight 
so miserable, had a surprising effect on the heated brains of all 
the household. Mr. Rotherham, a good three-bottle man, on 
emergency, had learned to bleed, and fortunately the vein he 
struck, as his patient still lay on the floor, where he had fallen, 
sent out a stream that had the effect not only to restore the 
baronet to life, but, in a great measure, to consciousness. Sir 
Wycherly was not a hard drinker, like Dutton ; but he was a 
fair drinker, like Mr. Rotherham, and most of the beneficed 
clergy of that day. Want of exercise, as he grew older, had 
as much influence in producing his attack as excess of wine ; 
and there were already, strong hopes of his surviving it, aided 
as he was, by a good constitution. The apothecary had reached 
the Hall, within five minutes after the attack, having luckily 
been prescribing to the gardener ; and the physician and sur- 
geon of the family were both expected in the course of the 
morning. 


156 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Sir Gervaise Oakes had been acquainted with the state of 
his host, hy his own valet, as soon as it was known in the ser- 
vants’-hall, and being a man of action, he did not hesitate to 
proceed at once to the chamber of the sick, to ofler his own 
aid, in the absence of that which might be better. At the door 
of the chamber, he met Atwood, who had been summoned 
from his pen, and they entered together, the vice-admiral feel- 
ing for a lancet in his pocket, for he, too, had acquired the art 
of the blood-letter. They now learned the actual state of 
things. 

“ Where is Bluewater ?” demanded Sir Gervaise, after re- 
garding his host a moment with commiseration and concern. 
I hope he has not yet left the house.” 

“ He is still here. Sir Gervaise, hut I should think on the 
point of quitting us. I heard him say, that, notwithstanding 
all Sir Wycherly’s kind plans to detain him, he intended to 
sleep in his own ship.” 

“ That I’ve never doubted, though I’ve affected to believe 
otherwise. Go to him, Atwood, and say I beg he will pull 
within hail of the Plantagenet, as he goes off, and desire Mr. 
Magrath to come ashore, as soon as possible. There shall be 
a conveyance at the landing to bring him here ; and he may 
order his own surgeon to come also, if it be agreeable to him- 
self.” 

With these instructions the secretary left the room ; while 
Sir Gervaise turned to Tom Wychecombe, and said a few of 
the words customary on such melancholy occasions. 

“ I think there is hope, sir,” he added, “ yes, sir, I think 
there is hope ; though your honoured relative is no longer 
young — still, this early bleeding has been a great thing ; and 
if we, can gain a little time for poor Sir Wycherly, our efforts 
will not be thrown away. Sudden death is awful, sir, and 
few of us are prepared for it, either in mind, or affairs 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 157 

We sailors have to hold our lives in our hands, it is true, 
but then it is for king and country ; and W’e hope for mercy 
on all who fall in the discharge of their duties. For my 
part, I am never unprovided with a will, and that disposes of 
all the interests of this world, while I humbly trust in the 
Great Mediator, for the hereafter. I hope Sir Wycherly is 
equally provident as to his worldly affairs ?” 

“ No doubt my dear uncle could wish to leave certain 
trifling memorials behind him to a few of his intimates,” re- 
turned Tom, with a dejected countenance ; but he has not 
been without a will, I believe, for some time ; and I presume 
you will agree with me in thinking he is not in a condition to 
make one, now, were he unprovided in that way ?” 

“ Perhaps not exactly at this moment, though a rally 
might afford an opportunity. The estate is entailed, I think 
Mr. Dutton told me, at dinner.” 

“ It is. Sir Gervaise, and I am the unworthy individual 
who is to profit by it, according to the common notions of 
men, though Heaven knows I shall consider it any thing but a 
gain ; still, I am the unworthy individual who is to be bene- 
fited by my uncle’s death.” 

“ Your father was the baronet’s next brother ?” observed 
Sir Gervaise, casually, a shade of distrust passing athwart his 
mind, though coming from what source, or directed to what 
point, he was himself totally unable to say. “ Mr. Baron 
Wychecombe, I believe, was your parent ?” 

“ He was. Sir Gervaise, and a most tender and indulgent 
father, I ever found him. He left me his earnings, some seven 
hundred a year, and I am sure the death of Sir Wycherly is 
as far from my necessities, as it is from my wishes.” 

“ Of course you will succeed to the baronetcy, as well as 
to the estate ?” mechanically asked Sir Gervaise, led on by 
the .supererogatory expressions of Tom, himself, rather than by 

14 


158 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


a vulgar curiosity, to ask questions that, under other circum- 
stances, he might have thought improper. 

“ Of course, sir. My father was the only surviving bro- 
ther of Sir Wycherly ; the only one who ever married ; and I 
am his eldest child. Since this melancholy event has 
occurred, it is quite fortunate that I lately obtained this certifi- 
cate of the marriage of my parents — is it not, sir ?” 

Here Tom drew from his pocket a soiled piece of paper, 
which professed to be a certificate of the marriage of Thomas 
Wychecombe, barrister, with Martha Dodd, spinster, &c. &c 
The document was duly signed by the rector of a parish 
church in Westminster, and bore a date sufficiently old to 
establish the legitimacy of the person who held it. This ex- 
traordinary precaution produced the very natural effect of 
increasing the distrust of the vice-admiral, and, in a slight 
degree, of giving it a direction. 

“ You go well armed, sir,” observed Sir Gervaise, drily. 
“ Is it your intention, when you succeed, to carry the patent 
of the baronetcy, and the title-deeds, in your pocket ?” 

“ Ah ! I perceive my having this document strikes you as 
odd. Sir Gervaise, but it can be easily explained. There was 
a wide difference in rank between my parents, and some 
ill-disposed persons have presumed so far to reflect on the 
character of my mother, as to assert she was not married 
at all.” 

“ In which case, sir, you would do well to cut off half-a- 
dozcn of their ears.” 

“ The law is not to be appeased in that way. Sir Gervaise. 
My dear parent used to inculcate on me the necessity of doing 
every thing according to law ; and I endeavour to remember 
his precepts. He avowed his marriage on his death-bed, 
made all due atonement to my respected and injured mother, 
and informed me in whose hands I should find this very certi- 


THE TWO admirals. 


159- 


ficate ; I only obtained it this morning, which fact will ac- 
count for its being in my pocket, at this melancholy and un- 
expected crisis, in my beloved uncle’s constitution.” 

The latter part of Tom’s declaration was true enough ; 
for, after having made all the necessary inquiries, and ob- 
tained the hand-writing of a clergyman who was long since 
dead, he had actually forged the certificate that day, on a 
piece of soiled paper, that bore the water-mark of 1720. His 
language, hov/ever, contributed to alienate the confidence of 
his listener ; Sir Gervaise being a man who was so much ac- 
customed to directness and fair-dealing, himself, as to feel dis- 
gust at any thing that had the semblance of cant or hypocrisy. 
Nevertheless, he had his own motives for pursuing the subject ; 
the presence of neither at the bed-side of the sufierer, being 
just then necessary. 

“ And this Mr. Wycherly Wychecombe,” he said ; “ he who 
has so much distinguished himself of late ; your uncle’s name- 
sake ; — is it true that he is not allied to your family ?” 

“ Not in the least. Sir Gervaise,” answered Tom, with one 
of his sinister smiles. “ He is only a Virginian, you know, sir, 
and cannot w’ell belong to us. I have heard my uncle say, 
often, that the young gentleman must be descended from an 
old servant of his father’s, who was transported for stealing 
silver out of a shop on Ludgate Hill, and who was arrested 
for passing himself off, as one of the Wychecombe family. 
They tell me, Sir Gervaise, that the colonies are pretty much 
made of persons descended from that sort of ancestors ?” 

“ I cannot say that I have found it so ; though, when I 
commanded a frigate, I served several years on the North 
American station. The larger portion of the Americans, like 
much the larger portion of the English, are humble labourers, 
established in a remote colony, where civilization is not far 
advanced, wants are many, and means few ; but, in the way 


160 


the two admirals. 


of character, I am not certain that they are not quite on a 
level with those they left behind them ; and, as to the gentry 
of the colonies, I have seen many men of the best blood of the 
mother country among them ; — younger sons, and their de- 
scendants, as a matter of course, but of an honourable and 
respected ancestry.” 

“ Well, sir, this surprises me ; and it is not the general 
opinion, I am persuaded ! Certainly, it is not the fact as re- 
spects the gentleman — stranger, I might call him, for stranger 
he is at Wychecombe — who has not the least right to pretend 
to belong to us.” 

“ Did you ever know him to lay claim to that honour, 
sir ?” 

“Not directly. Sir Gervaise ; though I am told he has 
made many hints to that effect, since he landed here to be 
cured of his wound. It would have been better had he pre- 
sented his rights to the landlord, than to present them to the 
tenants, I think you will allow, as a man of honour, yourself, 
Sir Gervaise ?” 

“ I can approve of nothing clandestine in matters that 
require open and fair dealing, Mr. Thomas Wychecombe. 
But I ought to apologize for thus dwelling on your family 
affairs, which concern me only as I feel an interest in the 
wishes and happiness of my new acquaintance, my excellent 
host.” 

“ Sir Wycherly has property in the funds that is not en- 
tailed — quite £1000 a year, beyond the estates — and I know 
he has left a will,” continued Tom ; who, with the short-sight- 
edness of a rogue, flattered himself with having made a fa- 
vourable impression on his companion, and who was desirous 
of making him useful to himself, in an emergency that he felt 
satisfied must terminate in the speedy death of his uncle. 
“ Yes, a good £1000 a year, in the fives ; money saved from 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


161 


his rents, in a long life. This Avill probably has some provision 
in favour of my younger brothers ; and perhaps of this name- 
sake of his,” — Tom was well aware that it devised every 
shilling, real and personal, to himself ; — “ for a kinder heart 
does not exist on earth. In fact, this will my uncle put in 
my possession, as heir at law, feeling it due to my pre- 
tensions, I suppose ; but I have never presumed to look 
into it.” 

Here was another instance of excessive finesse, in which 
Tom awakened suspicion by his very efibrts to allay it. It 
seemed highly improbable to Sir Gervaise, that a man like the 
nephew could long possess his uncle’s will, and feel no desire 
to ascertain its contents. The language of the young man 
was an indirect admission, that he might have examined the 
will if he would ; and the admiral felt disposed to suspect 
that what he might thus readily have done, he actually had 
done. The dialogue, however, terminated here ; Dutton, just 
at that moment, entering the room on the errand on which he 
had been sent by Admiral Bluewater, and Tom joining his 
old acquaintance, as soon as the latter made his appearance. 
Sir Gervaise Oakes was too much concerned for the condition 
of his host, and had too many cares of his own, to think 
deeply or long on what had just passed between himself and 
Tom Wychecombe. Had they separated that night, what 
had been said, and the unfavourable impressions it had made, 
would have been soon forgotten ; but circumstances subse- 
quently conspired to recall the whole to his mind, of which 
the consequences will be related in the course of our nar- 
rative. 

Dutton appeared to be a little shocked as he gazed upon 
the pallid features of Sir Wycherly, and he was not sorry when 
Tom led him aside, and began to speak confidentially of the 
future, and of the probable speedy death of his uncle. Had 

14 » 


1G2 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


there been one present, gifted with the power of reading the 
thoughts and motives of men, a deep disgust of human frail- 
ties must have come over him, as these two impure spirits 
betrayed to him their cupidity and cunning. Outwardly, they 
were friends mourning over a mutual probable loss ; while in- 
wardly, Dutton was endeavouring to obtain such a hold of his 
companion’s confidence, as might pave the way to his own 
future preferment to the high and unhoped-for station of a rich 
baronet’s father-in-law ; while Tom thought only of so far mys- 
tifying the master, as to make use of him, on an emergency, as 
a witness to establish his own claims. The manner in which 
he endeavoured to effect his object, however, must be left to 
the imagination of the reader, as we have matters of greater 
moment to record at this particular juncture. 

From the time Sir Wycherly was laid on his bed, Mr. 
Rotherham had been seated at the sick man’s side, watching 
the course of his attack, and ready to interpret any of the 
patient’s feebly and indistinctly expressed wishes. We say 
indistinctly, because the baronet’s speech was slightly affected 
with that species of paralysis which reduces the faculty to the 
state that is vulgarly called thick-tongued. Although a three- 
bottle man, Mr. Rotherham was far from being without his 
devout feelings, on occasions, discharging all the clerical func- 
tions with as much unction as the habits of the country, and 
the opinions of the day, ordinarily exacted of divines. He had 
even volunteered to read the prayers for the sick, as soon as he 
perceived that the patient’s recollection had returned ; but this 
kind offer had been declined by Sir Wycherly, under the clearer 
views of fitness, that the near approach of death is apt to give, 
and which views left a certain consciousness that the party 
assembled was not in the best possible condition for that sacred 
office. Sir Wycherly revived so much, at last, as to look about 
him with increasing consciousness ; and, at length, his eyes 


THE TWO admirals. 


163 


passed slowly over the room, scanning each person singly, and 
with marked deliberation. 

“ I know you all — now,” said the kind-hearted baronet, 
though always speaking thick, and with a little difficulty; 
‘•am sorry to give — much trouble. I have — little time to 
spare.” 

“ I hope not. Sir Wycherly,” put in the vicar, in a con- 
solatory manner; “you have had a sharp attack, but then 
there is a good constitution to withstand it.” 

“ My time — short — feel it here,” rejoined the patient, pass- 
ing his hand over his forehead. 

“Note that, Dutton,” whispered Tom Wycherly. “My 
poor uncle intimates himself that his mind is a little shaken. 
Under such circumstances, it would be cruel to let him injure 
himself with business.” 

“ It cannot be done legally, Mr. Thomas — I should think 
Admiral Oakes M^ould interfere to prevent it.” 

“ Rotherham,” continued the patient, “ I will — settle with 
— world ; then, give — thoughts — to God. Have we — guests 
— the house ? — Men of family — character?” 

“ Certainly, Sir Wycherly ; Admiral Oakes is in the room, 
even ; and Admiral Bluewater, is, I believe, still in the house. 
You invited both to pass the night with you.” 

“ I remember it — now ; my mind — still — confused,” — here 
Tom Wychecombe again nudged the master — “ Sir Gervaise 
Oakes — an Admiral — ancient baronet — man of high honour. 
Admiral Bluewater, too — relative — Lord Bluewater ; gentle- 
man — universal esteem. You, too, Rotherham ; wish my poor 
brother James — St. James — used to call him — had been liv- 
ing ; — you — good neighbour — Rotherham.” 

“ Can I do any thing to prove it, my dear Sir Wycherly ? 
Nothing would make me happier than to know, and to com- 
ply with, all your wishes, at a moment so important !” 


164 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“Let all quit — room — ^but yourself — head feels worse — I 
cannot delay — ” 

“ ’Tis cruel to distress mj beloved uncle with business, or 
conversation, in his present state,” interposed Tom Wyche- 
combe, with emphasis, and, in a slight degree, with authority. 

All not only felt the truth of this, but all felt that the 
speaker, by his consanguinity, had a clear right to interfere, 
in the manner he had. Still Sir Gervaise Oakes had great 
reluctance in yielding to this remonstrance ; for, to the dis- 
trust he had imbibed of Tom Wychecombe, was added an im- 
pression that his host wished to reveal something of interest, 
in connection with his new favourite, the lieutenant. He felt 
compelled, notwithstanding, to defer to the acknowledged 
nephew’s better claims, and he refrained from interfering. 
Fortunately, Sir Wycherly was yet in a state to enforce his 
own wishes. 

“ Let all quit — ^room,” he repeated, in a voice that was 
startling by its unexpected firmness, and equally unexpected 
distinctness. “All but Sir Gervaise Oakes — Admiral Blue- 
water — Mr. Rotherham, Gentlemen — favour to remain — 
rest depart.” 

Accustomed to obey their master’s orders, more especially 
when given in a tone so decided, the domestics quitted the 
room, accompanied by Dutton ; but Tom Wychecombe saw 
fit to remain, as if his presence were to be a matter of 
course. 

“Do me — favour — withdraw, — Mr. Wychecombe,” re- 
sumed the baronet, after fixing his gaze on his nephew for 
some time, as if expecting him to retire without this request. 

“ My beloved uncle, it is I — Thomas, your own brother’s 
son — ^your next of kin — waiting anxiously by your respected 
bed-side. Do not — do not — confound me with strangers, 
Such a forgetfulness would break my heart !” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


165 


“Forgive me, nephew — but I wish — alone with these 
gentle head — getting — confused — ” 

“ You see how it is, Sir Gervaise Oakes — you see how it 
is, Mr. Rotherham. Ah ! there goes the coach that is to take 
Admiral Bluewater to his boat. My uncle wished for three 
witnesses to something, and I can remain as one of the 
three.” . 

“Is it your pleasure, Sir Wycherly, to wish to see us 
alone ?” asked Sir Gervaise, in a manner that showed au- 
thority would be exercised to enforce his request, should the 
uncle still desire the absence of his nephew. 

A sign from the sick man indicated the affirmative, and 
that in a manner too decided to admit of mistake. 

“ You perceive, Mr. "Wychecombe, what are your uncle’s 
wishes,” observed Sir Gervaise, very much in the way that 
a well-bred superior intimates to an inferior the compliance 
he expects ; “ I trust his desire will not be disregarded, at a 
moment like this.” 

“ I am Sir Wycherly Wychecombe’s next of kin,” said 
Tom, in a slightly bullying tone ; “ and no one has the same 
right as a relative, and, I may say, his heir, to be at his 
bed-side.” 

“ That depends on the pleasure of Sir Wycherly Wyche- 
combe himself, sir. He is master here ; and, having done me 
the honour to invite me under his roof as a guest, and, now, 
having requested to see me alone, with others he has expressly 
named — one of whom you are not — I shall conceive it my 
duty to see his wishes obeyed.” 

This was said in the firm, quiet way, that the habit of 
command had imparted to Sir Gervaise’s manner ; and Tom 
began to see it might be dangerous to resist. It was important, 
too, that one of the vice-admiral’s character and station should 
have naught to say against him, in the event of any future 


1G6 


, THE TWO, ADMIRALS. 


controversy ; and, making a few professions of respect, and 
of his desire to please his uncle, Tom quitted the room. 

A gleam of satisfaction shot over the sick man’s counte« 
nance, as his nephew disappeared ; and then his eye turned 
slowly towards the faces of those who remained. 

“ Bluewater,” he said, the thickness of his speech, and the 
gerveral difficulty of utterance, seeming to increase ; “ the rear- 
admiral — I want all — respectable — witnesses in the house.” 

“ My friend has left us, I understand,” returned Sir Ger- 
vaise, “ insisting on his habit of never sleeping out of his ship ; 
but Atwood must soon be back ; I hope he will answer !” 

A sign of assent was given; and, then, there was the pause 
of a minute, or two, ere the secretary made his appearance. 
As soon, however, as he had returned, the three collected 
around the baronet’s bed, not w’ithout some of the weakness 
wffiich men are supposed to have inherited from their common 
mother Eve, in connection with the motive for this singular 
proceeding of the baronet. 

“Sir Gervaise — Rotherham — Mr. Atwood,” slowly re- 
peated the patient, his eye passing from the face of one to that 
of another, as he uttered the name of each ; “ three witnesses 
— that will do — Thomas said — must have three — three good 
names.” 

“ What can we do to serve you. Sir Wycherly ?” inquired 
the admiral, with real interest. “ You have only to name 
your requests, to have them faithfully attended to.” 

“ Old Sir Michael Wychecombe, Kt. — two wives — Mar- 
gery and Joan. Two wives — two sons — half-blood — Thomas, 
James, Charles, and Gregory, whole — Sir Reginald Wyche- 
combe, half. Understand — hope — gentlemen ?” 

“ This is not being very clear, certainly,” whispered Sir 
Gervaise ; “ but, perhaps by getting hold of the other end of 
the rope, we may under-run it, as we sailors say, and come at 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


lev 

the meaning — we will let the poor man proceed therefore. 
Ctuite plain, my dear sir, and what have you next to tell us. 
You left off, without saying only half about Sir Reginald.” 

“ Half-blood ; only half — Tom and the rest, whole. Sir 
Reginald, no nullins — young Tom, a nullius.'' 

“ A nullius, Mr. Rotherham ! You understand Latin, sir ; 
what can a nullius,^ mean ? No such rope in the ship, hey ! 
Atwood ?” 

“ Nullius, or nulliuSy as it ought sometimes to he pronoun- 
ced, is the genitive case, singular, of the pronoun nullus ; 
nullus, nulla, nullum ; which means, ‘ no man,’ ‘ no woman,’ 

‘ no thing.’ Nullius means, ‘ of no man,’ ‘ of no woman,’ ‘ of 
no thing.’ ” 

The vicar gave this explanation, much in the way a peda- 
gogue would have explained the matter to a class. 

“ Ay-ay — any school-boy could have told that, which is 
the first form learning. But what the devil can ‘ Nom. nul- 
lus, nulla, nullum; Gen. nullius, nullius, nullius^ have to 
do with Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, the nephew and heir of 
the present baronet ?” 

“ That is more than I can inform you. Sir Gervaise,” an- 
swered the vicar, stiffly ; “ but, for the Latin, I will take upon 
myself to answer, that it is good.” 

Sir Gervaise was too-well bred to laugh, but he found it 
difficult to suppress a smile. 

“ Well, Sir Wycherly,” resumed the vice-admiral, “ this is 
quite plain — Sir Reginald is only half, while your nephew 
Tom, and the rest, are ivhole — Margery and Joan, and all 
that. Any thing more to tell us, ray dear sir ?” 

“ Tom not whole — nullus, I wish to say. Sir Reginald 
half — no nullus. 

“ This is like being at sea a week, without getting a sight 
of the suii ! I am all adrift, now, gentlemen.” 


168 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Sir Wycherly does not attend to his cases,” put in At- 
wood, drily. “ At one time, he is in the genitive, and then 
he gets hack to the nominative; which is leaving us in the 
vocative. 

“ Come — come — Atwood, none of your gun-room wit, on 
an occasion so solemn as this. My dear Sir Wycherly, have 
you any thing more to tell us ? I believe we perfectly under- 
stand you, now. Tom is not whole — you wish to say nullns, 
and not to say nullius. Sir Reginald is only half, but he is 
no mdlusl' 

“Yes, sir — that is it,” returned the old man, smiling. 
“ Half, hut no nullus. Change my mind — seen too much of 
the other, lately — Tom, my nephew — want to make him my 
heir ” 

“This is getting clearer, out of all question. You wish to 
make your nephew, Tom, your heir. But the law does that 
already, does it not my dear sir ? Mr. Baron Wychecomhe 
w'as the next brother of the baronet ; was he not, Mr. Roth- 
erham ?” 

“So I have always understood, sir ; and Mr. Thomas 
Wychecomhe must be the heir at law’.” 

“ No — no — nullus — nullus f repeated Sir Wycherly, with 
so much eagerness as to make his voice nearly indistinct ; 
“ Sir Reginald — Sir Reginald — Sir Reginald.” 

“ And pray, Mr. Rotherham, who may this Sir Reginald 
be ? Some old baronet of the family, I presume.” 

“ Not at all, sir ; it is Sir Reginald Wychecomhe of Wyche- 
comhe-Regis, Herts ; a baronet of Gtueen Anne’s time, and a 
descendant from a cadet of this family, I am told.” 

“ This is getting on soundings — I had taken it into my 
head this Sir Reginald was some old fellow of the reign of one 
of the Plantagenets. Well, Sir Wycherly, do you wish us to 
send an express into Hertfordshire, in quest of Sir Reginald 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


169 


Wychecombe, who is quite likely your executor ? Do not give 
yourself the pain to speak ; a sign will answ'er.” 

Sir Wycherly seemed struck with the suggestion, which, 
the reader will readily understand, was far from being his real 
meaning ; and then he smiled, and nodded his head in appro- 
bation. 

Sir Gervaise, with the prompitude of a man of business, 
turned to the table where the vicar had written notes to the 
medical men, and dictated a short letter to his secretary. 
This letter he signed, and in five minutes Atwood left the 
room, to order it to he immediately forwarded by express. 
When this was done, the admiral rubbed his hands, in satis- 
faction, like a man who felt he had got himself cleverly out of 
a knotty difficulty. 

“ I don’t see, after all, Mr. Rotherham,” he observed to the 
vicar, as they stood together, in a corner of the room, waiting 
the return of the secretary ; “ what he lugged in that school- 
boy Latin for — nullus, nulla, nullum ! Can you possibly ex- 
plain that T' 

“ Not unless it was Sir Wycherly’s desire to say, that Sir 
Reginald, being descended from a younger son, was nobody — * 
as yet, had no woman — and I believe he is not married — and 
was poor, or had ‘ no thing. ^ ” 

“ And is Sir Wycherly such a desperate scholar, that he 
would express himself in this hieroglyphical manner, on wffiat 
I fear will prove to be his death-bed ?” 

“ Why, Sir Gervaise, Sir Wycherly was educated like all 
other young gentlemen, but has forgotten most of his classics, 
in the course of a long life of ease and affiuence. Is it not 
probable, now, that his recollection has returned to him sud- 
denly, in consequence of this affection of the head ? I think I 
have read of some curious instances of these reviving memories, 
on a death-bed, or after a fit of sickness.” 


15 


170 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Ay, that you may have done !” exclaimed Sir Gervaise, 
smiling ; “ and poor, good Sir Wycherly, must have begun 
afresh, at the very place where he left off! But here is Atwood, 
again.” 

After a short consultation, the three chosen witnesses re- 
turned to the bed-side, the admiral being spokesman. 

“ The express will be off in ten minutes, Sir Wycherly,” 
he said ; “ and you may hope to see your relative, in the 
course of the next two or three days.” 

“ Too late — too late,” murmured the patient, who had an 
inward consciousness of his true situation ; “ too late — turn the 
will round — Sir Reginald, Tom ; — Tom, Sir Reginald. Turn 
the will round.” 

“ Turn the will round ! — this is very explicit, gentlemen, 
to those who can understand it. Sir Reginald, Tom ; — Tom, 
Sir Reginald. At all events, it is clear that his mind is dwell- 
ing on the disposition of his property, since he speaks of wills. 
Atwood, make a note of these words, that there need be no 
mistake. I wonder he has said nothing of our brave young 
lieutenant, his namesake. There can be no harm, Mr. Roth- 
erham, in just mentioning that fine fellow to him, in a mo- 
ment like this ?” 

“ I see none, sir. It is our duty to remind the sick of their 
duties.” 

“ Do you not wish to see your young namesake, Lieutenant 
Wycherly Wychecombe, Sir Wycherly ?” asked the admiral ; 
sufficiently emphasizing the Christian name. “ He must be 
in the house, and I dare say would be happy to obey your 
wishes.” 

“ I hope he is well, sir — fine young gentleman — honour to 
the name, sir.” 

“ Gluite true, Sir Wycherly ; and an honour to the nation^ 
too.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


171 


“ Didn’t know Virginia was a nation — so much the bet- 
ter — fine young Virginian, sir.” 

“ Of your family, no doubt, Sir Wycherly, as well as of 
your name,” added the admiral, who secretly suspected the 
young sailor of being a son of the baronet, notwithstanding all 
he had heard to the contrary. “ An exceedingly fine young 
man, and an honour to any house in England !” 

“ I suppose they have houses in Virginia — bad climate ; 
houses necessary. No relative, sir ; — probably a nullus. Many 
Wychecombes, nulluses. Tom, a nullus — this young gentle- 
man, a nullus — Wychecombes of Surrey, all nulluses — Sir Re- 
ginald no nullus ; but a half — Thomas, James, Charles, and 
Gregory, all lohole. My brother, Baron Wychecombe, told 
me — before died.” 

“ Whole what. Sir Wycherly ?” asked the admiral, a little 
vexed at the obscurity of the other’s language. 

“ Blood — whole blood, sir. Capital law. Sir Gervaise ; 
had it from the baron — first hand.” 

Now, one of the peculiarities of England is, that, in the 
division of labour, few know any thing material about the law, 
except the professional men. Even their knowledge is divided 
and sub-divided, in a way that makes a very fair division of 
profit. Thus the conveyancer is not a barrister ; the barrister 
is not an attorney ; and the chancery practitioner would be an 
unsafe adviser for one of the purely law courts. That particu- 
lar provision of the common law, which Baron Wychecombe 
had mentioned to his brother, as the rule of the half-blood, 
has been set aside, or modified, by statute, within the last ten 
years ; but few English laymen would be at all likely to 
know of such a law of descent even when it existed ; for while 
it did violence to every natural sentiment of right, it lay hid- 
den in the secrets of the profession. Were a case stated to a 
thousand intelligent Englishmen, who had not read law, in 


172 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


which it was laid dow'n that brothers, by difTerent mothers, 
though equally sons of the founder of the estate, could not take 
from each other, unless by devise or entail, the probability is 
that quite nine in ten would deny the existence of any rule so 
absurd ; and this, too, under the influenee of feelings that were 
creditable to their sense of natural justice. Nevertheless, 
such was one of the important provisions of the “ perfection 
of reason,” until the recent reforms in English law ; and it 
has struck us as surprising, that an ingenious writer of fiction, 
who has recently charmed his readers with a tale, the in- 
terest of which turns principally on the vicissitudes of prac- 
tice, did not bethink him of this peculiar feature of his 
country’s laws ; inasmuch as it would have supplied mystery 
sufficient for a dozen ordinary romances, and improbabilities 
enough for a hundred. That Sir Gervaise and his com- 
panions should be ignorant of the “ law of the half-blood,” 
is, consequently, very much a matter of course ; and no one 
ought to be surprised that the worthy baronet’s repeated 
allusions to the “ whole,” and the “ half,” were absolutely 
enigmas, which neither had the knowledge necessary to 
explain. 

“ What can the poor fellow mean ?” demanded the admi- 
ral, more concerned than he remembered ever before to have 
been, on any similar occasion. “ One could wish to serve 
him as much as possible, but all this about ^nullus,^ and 
‘ whole blood,’ and ‘ half,’ is so much gibberish to me — can 
you make any thing of it, — ^hey ! Atwood ?” 

“ Upon my word. Sir Gervaise', it seems a matter for a 
judge, rather than for man-of-war’s men, like ourselves.” 

“It certainly can have no connection with this rising of the 
Jacobites ? That is an affair likely to trouble a loyal subject, 
in his last moments, Mr. Rotherham !” 

“ Sir Wycherly’s habits and age forbid the idea that he 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. • 173 

knows more of that, sir, than is known to us all. His request, 
hoM^ever, to ‘ turn the wiU round,’ I conceive to be altogether 
explicit. Several capital treatises have appeared lately on the 
‘human will,’ and I regret to say, my honoured friend’ and 
patron has not always been quite as orthodox on that point, 
as I could wish. I, therefore, consider his words as evidence 
of a hearty repentance.” 

Sir Gervaise looked about him, as was his habit when any 
droll idea crossed his mind ; but again suppressing the inclina- 
tion to smile, he answered with suitable gravity — 

“ I understand you, sir ; you think all these inexplicable 
terms are connected with Sir Wycherly’s religious feelings. 
You may certainly be right, for it exceeds my knowledge to 
connect them with any thing else. I wish, notwithstanding, 
he had not disoAvned this noble young lieutenant of ours ! Is 
it quite certain the young man is a Virginian ?” 

“ So I have always understood it, sir. He has never been 
known in this part of England, until he was landed from a 
frigate in the roads, to be cured of a serious wound. I think 
none of Sir Wycherly’s allusions have the least reference to 
him. 

Sir Gervaise Oakes now joined his hands behind his back, 
and walked several times, quarter-deck fashion, to and fro, in 
the room. At each turn, his eyes glanced towards the bed, 
and he ever found the gaze of the sick man anxiously fastened 
on himself This satisfied him that religion had nothing to 
do with his host’s manifest desire to make himself understood ; 
and his own trouble was greatly increased. It seemed to him, 
as if the dying man was making incessant appeals to his aid, 
without its being in his power to afford it. It was not possible 
for a generous man, like Sir Gervaise, to submit to such a feel- 
ing without an effort ; and he soon went to the side of the bed, 
again, determined to bring the afiair to some intelligible issue. 

15 * 


174 THE TWO ADMIRALS. 

“ Do you think, Sir Wycherly, you could write a few lines, 
if we put pen, ink, and paper before you ? ’ he asked, as a sort 
of desperate remedy. 

“ Impossible — can hardly see ; have got no strength — stop 
— will try — if you please.” 

Sir Gervaise was delighted with this, and he immediately 
directed his companions to lend their assistance. Atwood and 
the vicar bolstered the old man up, and the admiral put the 
writing materials before him, substituting a large quarto bible 
for a desk. Sir Wycherly, after several abortive attempts, 
finally got the pen in his hand, and with great difficulty traced 
six or seven nearly illegible words, running the line diagonally 
across the paper. By this time his powers failed him alto- 
gether, and he sunk back, dropping the pen, and closing his 
eyes in a partial insensibility. At this critical instant, the 
surgeon entered, and at once put an end to the interview, by 
taking charge of the patient, and directing all but one or two 
necessary attendants, to quit the room. 

The three chosen witnesses of what had just past, repaired 
together to a parlour ; Atwood, by a sort of mechanical habit,’ 
taking with him the paper on which the baronet had scrawled 
the words just mentioned. This, by a sort of mechanical use, 
also, he put into the hands of Sir Gervaise, as soon as they 
entered the room ; much as he would have laid before his 
superior, an order to sign, or a copy of a letter to the secretary 
of the Navy Board. 

“ This is as bad as the ‘ nullum ” exclaimed Sir Gervaise, 
after endeavouring to decipher the scrawl in vain. “ What 
is this first word, Mr. Rotherham—* Irish,’ is it not, — hey ! 
Atwood ?” 

“ I believe it is no more than ‘ I-n,’ stretched over much 
more paper than is necessary.” 

“ You are right enough, vicar ; and the next word is ‘ the,’ 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


175 


though it looks like a chevaiix de /me— what follows ? It 
looks like ‘ man-of-war,’ Atwood ?” 

“ I beg your pardon, Sir Gervaise ; this first letter is 
w’hat I should call an elongated n — the next is*certainly an a 
— the third looks like the waves of a river — ah ! it is an m 
— and the last is an e — n-a-m-e — that makes ‘ name,’ gen- 
tlemen.” 

“ Yes,” eagerly added the vicar, “ and the two next words 
are, ‘of God.’ ” 

“ Then it is religion, after all, that was on the poor man’s 
mind !” exclaimed Sir Gervaise, in a slight degree disappoint- 
ed, if the truth must be told. “ What’s this A-m-e-n — ‘ Amen’ 
— why it’s a sort of prayer.” 

“ This is the form in which it is usual to commence wills, 
I believe. Sir Gervaise,” observed the secretary, who had writ- 
ten many a one, on board ship, in his day. “ ‘ In the name of 
God, Amen.’ ” 

“ By George, you’re right, Atwood ; and the poor man 
was trying, all the while, to let us know how he wished to 
dispose of his property ! What could he mean by the nullus 
— it is not possible that the old gentleman has nothing to 
leave ?” 

“ I’ll answer for it. Sir Gervaise, that is not the true ex- 
planation,” the vicar replied. “ Sir Wycherly’s affairs are in 
the best order ; and, besides the estate, he has a large sum in 
the funds.” 

“ Well, gentlemen, we can do no more to-night. A medical 
man is already in the house, and Bluewater will send ashore 
one or two others from the fleet . In the morning, if Sir Wych- 
erly is in a state to converse, this matter shall be attended to.” 

The party now separated ; a bed being provided for the 
vicar, and the admiral and his secretary retiring to their re- 
spective rooms. 




CHAPTER X, 

“Bid physicians talk our veins to temper, 

And with an argument new-set a pulse ; 

. Then think, my lord, of reasoning into love.” 

Yovno, 

- : r: 

While the scene just related, took place in the chamber 
of the sick man, Admiral Bluewater, Mrs. Button, and Mildred 
left the house, in the old family-coach. The rear-admiral had 
pertinaciously determined to adhere to his practice of sleeping 
in his ship ; and the manner in which he had offered seats to 
his two fair companions — for Mrs. Button still deserved to be 
thus termed — has already been seen. The motive was simply 
to remove them from any further brutal exhibitions of Button’s 
cupidity, while he continued in his present humour ; and, thus 
influenced, it is not probable that the gallant old sailor would 
be likely to dwell, more than was absolutely necessary, on the 
unpleasant scene of which he had been a witness. In fact, 
no allusion was made to it, during the quarter of an hour the 
party was driving from the Hall to the station-house. They 
all spoke, with regret, — Mildred with affectionate tenderness, 
even, — of poor Sir Wycherly ; and several anecdotes, indica- 
tive of his goodness of heart, were eagerly related to Bluewa- 
ter, by the two females, as the carriage moved heavily along. 
In the time mentioned, the vehicle drew up before the door of 
the cottage, and all three alighted. 

If the morning of that day had been veiled in mist, the 
sun had set in as cloudless a fky as is often arched above the 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Ill 


island of Great Britain. The night was, what in that region, 
is termed a clear moonlight. It was certainly not the mimic 
day that is so often enjoyed in purer atmospheres, hut the 
panorama of the head-land was clothed in a soft, magical sort 
of semi-distinctness, that rendered objects sufficiently obvious, 
and exceedingly beautiful. The rounded, shorn swells of the 
land,' hove upward to the eye, verdant and smooth ; while the 
fine oaks of the park formed a shadowy background to the 
picture, inland. Seaward, the ocean was glittering, like a re- 
versed plane of the firmament, far as eye could reach. If our 
own hemisphere, or rather this latitude, may boast of purer 
skies than are enjoyed by the mother country, the latter has a 
vast superiority in the tint of the water. While the whole 
American coast is bounded by a dull-looking sheet of sea-green, 
the deep blue of the wide ocean appears to be carried close 
home to the shores of Europe. This glorious tint, from which 
the term of “ ultramarine” has been derived, is most remark- 
able in the Mediterranean, that sea of delights ; but it is met 
with, all along the rock-bound coasts of the Peninsula of Spain 
and Portugal, extending through the British Channel, until it 
is in a measure, lost on the shoals of the North Sea ; to be re- 
vived, however, in the profound depths of the ocean that laves 
the wild romantic coast of Norway. 

“ ’Tis a glorious night !” exclaimed Bluewater, as he 
handed Mildred, the last, from the carriage ; “ and one can 
hardly wish to enter a cot, let it swing ever so lazily.” 

“ Sleep is out of the question,” returned Mildred, sor- 
rowfully. “ These are nights in which even the weary 
are reluctant to lose their consciousness ; but who can 
sleep while there is this uncertainty about dear Sir Wych- 
erly.” 

“ I rejoice to hear you say this, Mildred,” — for so the admi- 
ral had unconsciously, and unrepelled, begun to call his sweet 


178 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


companion — “ I rejoice to hear you say this, for I am an in 
veterate star-gazer and moon-ite ; and I shall hope to persuade 
you and Mrs. Dutton to waste yet another hour, with me, in 
walking on this height. Ah ! yonder is Sam Yoke, my cox- 
swain, waiting to report the barge ; I can send Sir Gervaise’s 
message to the surgeons, by deputy, and there will be no occa- 
sion for my hastening from this lovely spot, and pleasant 
company.” 

The orders were soon given to the coxswain. A dozen 
boats, it would seem, were in waiting for officers ashore, not- 
withstanding the lateness of the hour ; and directions were 
sent for two of them to pull ofli and obtain the medical men. 
The coach was 'sent round to receive the latter, and then all 
was tranquil, again, on the height. Mrs. Dutton entered the 
house, to attend to some of her domestic concerns, while the 
rear-admiral took the arm of Mildred, and they walked, to- 
gether, to the verge of the cliffs. 

A fairer moonlight picture seldom offered itself to a sea- 
man’s eye, than that which now lay before the sight of Admi- 
ral Bluewater and Mildred. Beneath .them rode the fleet ; 
sixteen sail of different rigs, eleven of which, however, were 
two-decked ships of the largest size then known in naval 
warfare ; and all of which were in that perfect order, that an 
active and intelligent commander know's how to procure, even 
from the dilatory and indifferent. If Admiral Bluewater was 
conspicuous in manoeuvring a fleet, and in rendering every 
vessel of a line that extended a league, efficient, and that too, 
in her right place. Sir Gervaise Oakes had the reputation of 
being one of the best seamen, in the ordinary sense of the 
word, in England. No vessel under his command, ever had a 
lubberly look ; and no ship that had any sailing in her, failed 
to have it brought out of her. The vice-admiral w^as familiar 
with that all-important fact — one that members equally of 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 

Congress and of Parliament are so apt to forget, or rather not 
to know at all — ^that the efficiency of a whole fleet, as a fleet, 
is necessarily brought down to the level of its worst ships. 
Of little avail is it, that four or five vessels of a squadron sail 
fast, and work well, if^ the eight or ten that remain, behave 
badly, and are dull. A separation of the vessels is the inevi- 
table consequence, when the properties of all are thoroughly 
tried ; and the division of a force, is the first step towards its 
defeat ; as its proper concentration, is a leading condition of 
victory. As the poorer vessels cannot imitate the better, the 
good are compelled to regulate their movements by the bad ; 
which is at once essentially bringing down the best ships of a 
fleet to the level of its worst ; the proposition with which we 
commenced. 

Sir Gervaise Oakes was so great a favourite, that all he 
asked was usually conceded to him. One of his conditions 
was, that his vessels should sail equally well ; “If you give 
me fast ships,” he said, “ I can overtake the enemy ; if dull, 
the enemy can overtake me ; and I leave you to say which 
course will be most likely to bring on an action. At any rate, 
give me consorts ; not one flyer, and one drag ; but vessels 
that can keep within hail of each other, without anchoring.” 
The admiralty professed every desire to oblige the gallant 
commander ; and, as he was resolved never to quit the Plan- 
tagenet until she was worn out, it was indispensably necessary 
to find as many fast vessels as possible, to keep her company. 
The result was literally a fleet of “ horses,” as Galleygo used 
to call it ; and it was generally said in the service, that “ Oakes 
had a squadron of flyers, if not a flying-squadron.” 

Vessels like these just mentioned, are usually symmetrical 
and graceful to the eye, as well as fast. This fact was ap- 
parent to Mildred, accustomed as she was to the sight of ships • 
and she ventured to express as much, after she and her com- 


180 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


panion had stood quite a minute on the cliff, gazing at the 
grand spectacle beneath them. 

“ Your vessels look even handsomer than common, Admiral 
Bluewater,” she said, “ though a ship, to me, is always an 
attractive sight.” 

“ This is because they art handsomer than common, my 
pretty critic. Vice-Admiral Oakes is an officer who will no 
more tolerate an ugly ship in his fleet, than a peer of the realm 
will marry any woman hut one who is handsome ; unless, 
indeed she happen to be surpassingly rich.” 

“ I have heard that men are accustomed to lose their hearts 
under such an influence,” said Mildred, laughing ; “hut I did 
not know before, that they were ever frank enough to avow it !” 

“ The knowledge has been imparted by a prudent mother, 
I suppose,” returned the rear-admiral, in a musing manner ; 
“ I wish I stood sufficiently in the parental relation to you, my 
young friend, to venture to give a little advice, also. Never, 
before, did I feel so strong a wish to warn a human being of 
a great danger that I fear is impending over her, could I pre- 
sume to take the liberty.” 

“ It is not a liberty, but a duty, to warn any one of a 
danger that is known to ourselves, and not to the person who 
incurs the risk. At least so it appears to the eyes of a very 
young girl.” 

“ Yes, if the danger was of falling from these cliffs, or of 
setting fire to a house, or of any other visible calamity. The 
case is different, when young ladies, and setting fire to the 
heart, are concerned.” 

“ Certainly, I can perceive the distinction,” answered Mil- 
dred, after a short pause ; “ and can understand that the same 
person who would not scruple to give the alarm against any 
physical danger, would hesitate even at hinting at one of a 
moral character. Nevertheless, if Admiral Bluewater think 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


181 


a simple girl, like me, of sufficient importance to take the 
trouble to interest himself in her welfare, I should hope he 
would not shrink from pointing out this danger. It is a terrible 
word to sleep on ; and I confess, besides a little uneasiness, to 
a good deal of curiosity to know more.” 

“ This is said, Mildred, because you are unaccustomed to 
the shocks which the tongue of rude man may give your sensi- 
tive feelings.” 

“ Unaccustomed !” said Mildred, trembling so that the 
Aveakness was apparent to her companion. “ Unaccustomed ! 
Alas I Admiral Bluewater, can this be so, after what you have 
seen and heard !” 

“ Pardon me, dear child : nothing was farther from my 
thoughts, than to wish to revive those unpleasant recollec- 
tions. If I thought I should be forgiven, I might venture, yet, 
to reveal my secret ; for never before — though I cannot tell 
the reason of so sudden and so extraordinary an interest in one 
who is almost a stranger — ” 

“No — no — not a stranger, dear sir. After all that has 
passed to-day ; after you have been admitted, though it were 
by accident, to one most sacred secret ; — after all that was 
said in the carriage, and the terrible scenes my beloved 
mother went through in your presence so many years since, 
you can never be a stranger to us, whatever may be your own 
desire to fancy yourself one.” 

“ Girl, you do not fascinate — you do not charm me, but 
you bind me to you in a way I did not think it in the pow’er 
of any human being to subjugate my feelings !” 

This was said with so much energy, that Mildred dropped 
the arm she held, and actually recoiled a step, if not in alarm, 
at least in surprise. But, on looking up into the face of her 
companion, and perceiving large tears actually glistening on 
his cheek, and seeing the hair that exposure and mental cares 

16 


182 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


had whitened more than time, all her confidence returned, and 
she resumed the place she had abandoned, of her own accord, 
and as naturally as a daughter would have clung to the side 
of a father. 

“ I am sure, sir, my gratitude for this interest ought to be 
quite equal to the honour it does me,” Mildred said, earnestly. 
“ And, now. Admiral Bluewater, do not hesitate to speak to 
me with the frankness that a parent might use. I will listen 
with the respect and deference of a daughter.” 

“ Then do listen to what I have to say, and make no an- 
sw’^er, if find yourself wounded at the freedom I am 
taking. It would seem that there is but one subject on which 
a man, old fellow or young fellow, can speak to a lovely 
young girl, when he gets her alone, under the light of a fine 
moon ; — and that is love. Nay, start not again, my dear, 
for, if I am about to speak on so awkward a subject, it is 
not in my own behalf I hardly know whether you will 
think it in behalf of any one ; as what I have to say, is not 
an appeal to your affections, but a warning against bestowing 
them.” 

“ A warning. Admiral Bluewater I Do you really think 
that can be necessary ?” 

“ Nay, my child, that is best known to yourself Of one 
thing I am certain ; the young man I have in my eye, affects 
to admire you, whether he does or not ; and when young 
women are led to believe they are loved, it is a strong appeal 
to all their generous feelings to answer the passion, if not with 
equal warmth, at least with something very like it.” 

“ Affects to admire, sir I — And why should any one be at 
the pains oi affecting feelings towards me, that they do not ac- 
tually entertain ? I have neither rank, nor money, to bribe 
any one to be guilty of an hypocrisy so mean, and which, in 
my case, would be so motiveless.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


183 


“ Yes, if it ivere motiveless to win the most beautiful crea- 
ture in England ! But, no matter. We w'ill not stop to 
analyze motives, when facts are what we aim at. I should 
think there must he some passion in this youth’s suit, and that 
will only make it so much the more dangerous to its object. 
At all events, I feel a deep conviction that he is altogether 
unworthy of you. This is a bold expression of opinion on an 
acquaintance of a day ; but there are such reasons for it, 
that a man of my time of life, if unprejudiced, can scarcely be 
deceived.” 

“ All this is very singular, sir, and I had almost used your 
own word of ‘ alarming,’ ” replied Mildred, slightly agitated by 
curiosity,' but more amused. “ I shall be as frank as yourself, 
and say that you judge the gentleman harshly. Mr. Rother- 
ham may not have all the qualities that a clergyman ought to 
possess, but he is far from being a bad man. Good or bad, 
however, it is not probable that he will carry his transient par- 
tiality any farther than he has gone already.” 

“ Mr. Rotherham ! — I have neither thought nor spoken of 
the pious vicar at all !” 

Mildred was now sadly confused. Mr. Rotherham had 
made his proposals for her, only the day before, and he had 
been mildly, but firmly refused. The recent occurrence was 
naturally uppermost in her mind ; and the conjecture that her 
rejected suitor, under the influence of wine, might have com- 
municated the state of his wishes, or what he fancied to be 
the state of his wishes, to her companion, was so very easy, 
that she had fallen into the error, almost without reflection. 

“ I beg pardon, sir — I really imagined,” the confused girl 
answered ; “ but, it was a natural mistake for me to suppose 
you meant Mr. Rotherham, as he is the only peison wRo has 
ever spoken to my mother on the subject of any thing like a 
preference for me.” 


184 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ I should have less fear of those who spoke to your mother, 
Mildred, than of those who spoke only to you. As I hate 
ambiguity, however, I will say, at once, that my allusion was 
to Mr. Wychecombe.” 

“ Mr. Wychecombe, Admiral Bluewater !” — and the veteran 
felt the arm that leaned on him tremble violently, a sad con- 
firmation of even more than he apprehended, or he would not 
have been so abrupt. “ Surely — surely — ^the warning you 
mean, cannot, ought not to apply to a gentleman of Mr. 
Wychecombe’s standing and character !” 

“ Such is the world. Miss Dutton, and we old seamen, in 
particular, get to know it, whether willingly or not. My 
sudden interest in you, the recollection of former, but painful 
scenes, and the events of the day, have made me watchful, 
and, you will add, bold — but I am resolved to speak, even at 
the risk of disobliging you for ever — and, in speaking, I must 
say that I never met with a young man who has made so 
unfavourable an impression on me, as this same Mr. Wyche- 
combe.” 

Mildred, unconsciously to herself, withdrew her arm, and 
she felt astonished at her own levity, in so suddenly becoming 
sufficiently intimate with a stranger to permit him thus to 
disparage a confirmed friend. 

“I am sorry, sir, that you entertain so indifferent an opinion 
of one who is, I believe, a general favourite, in this part of the 
country,” she answered, with a coldness that rendered her 
manner marked. 

“ I perceive I shall share the fate of all unwelcome coun- 
sellors, but can only blame my own presumption. Mildred, 
we live in momentous limes, and God knows what is to happen 
to myself, in the next few months ; but, so strong is the inex- 
plicable interest that I feel in your welfare, that I shall venture 
still to offend. I like not this Mr. Wychecombe, who is so 


THE TWO admirals. 


185 


devout ail admirer of yours — real or affected — and, as to the 
liking of dependants for the heir of a considerable estate, it is 
so much a matter of course, that I count it nothing.” 

“The heir of a considerable estate !” repeated Mildred, in 
a voice to which the natural sweetness returned, quietly re- 
suming the arm, she had so unceremoniously dropped — “ Surely, 
dear sir, you are not speaking of Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, 
Sir Wycherly’s nephew.” 

“ Of whom else should I speak ? — Has he not been your 
shadow the whole day ? — so marked in his attentions, as 
scarce to deem it necessary to conceal his suit ?” 

“Has it really struck you thus, sir? — I confess I did not 
so consider it. We are so much at home at the Hall, that 
we rather expect all of that family to he kind to us. But, 
whether you are right in your conjecture, or not, Mr. Thomas 
Wychecombe can never he ought to me — and as proof. Admi- 
ral Blue water, that I take your warning, as it is meant, in 
kindness and sincerity, I will add, that he is not a very par- 
ticular favourite.” 

“ I rejoice to hear it ! Now there is his namesake, our 
young lieutenant, as gallant and as noble a fellow as ever 
lived — would to Heaven he w’as not so wrapt up in his pro- 
fession, as to he insensible to any beauties, but those of a ship. 
Were you my own daughter, Mildred, I could give you to that 
lad, with as much freedom as I would give him my estate, 
were he my son.” 

Mildred smiled — and it was archly, though not without a 
shade of sorrow, too — ^but she had sufficient self-command, to 
keep her feelings to herself, and too much maiden reserve not 
to shrink from betraying her weakness to one who, after all, 
was little more than a stranger. 

“ I dare say, sir,” she answered, with an equivocation which 
was perhaps venial, “ that your knowledge of the w'orld has 

16 ‘ 


186 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 



judged both these gentlemen, rightly. Mr. Thomas Wyche-^ 
combe, notwithstanding all you heard from my poor father, is 
not likely to think seriously of me ; and I will answer for my 
own feelings as regards him. I am, in no manner, a proper 
person to become Lady Wychecombe ; and, I trust, I should | 
have the prudence to decline the honour were it even offered * 
to me. Believe me, sir, my father would have held a different ^ 
language to-night, had it not been for Sir Wycherly’s wine, 
and the many loyal toasts that were drunk. He must be 
conscious, in his reflecting moments, that a child of his is 
unsuited to so high a station. Our prospects in life were 
once better than they are now. Admiral Bluewater ; but 
they have never been such as to raise these high expectations 


“ An officer’s daughter may always claim to be a gentle- 
woman, my dear ; and, as such, you might become the wife of 
a duke, did he love you. Since I find my warning unneces- 
sary, however, we will change the discourse. Did not some- 
thing extraordinary occur at this cliff, this morning, and in 
connection with this very. Mr. Thomas Wychecombe? Sir 
Gervaise was my informant ; but he did not relate the matter 
very clearly.” 

Mildred explained the mistake, and then gave a vivid de- 
scription of the danger in which the young lieutenant had 
been placed, as well as of the manner in which he had extri- 
cated himself. She particularly dwelt on the extraordinary 
presence of mind and resolution, by means of which he 
had saved his life, when the stone first gave way beneath 
his foot. 

“ All this is well, and what I should have expected from 
BO active and energetic a youth,” returned the rear-admiral, a 
little gravely ; “ but, I confess I would rather it had not hap- 
pened. Your inconsiderate and reckless young men, who risk 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


187 


their necks idly, in places of this sort, seldom have much in 
them, after all. Had there been a motive, it would have al- 
tered the case.” 

“ Oh ! but there wa% a motive, sir ; he was far from doing 
BO silly a thing for nothing !” 

“ And what was the motive, pray ? — I can see no sufficient 
reason why a man of sense should trust his person over a cliff 
as menacing as this. One may approach it, by moonlight ; but 
in the day, I confess to you I should not fancy standing as near 
it, as we do at this moment.” 

Mildred was much embarrassed for an answer. Her own 
heart told her Wycherly’s motive, but that it would never do 
to avow to her companion, great as was the happiness she felt 
in avowing it to herself Gladly would she have changed the 
discourse ; but, as this could not be done, she yielded to her 
native integrity of character, and told the truth, as far as she 
told any thing.” 

“ The flowers that grow on the sunny side of these rocks, 
Admiral Bluewater, are singularly fragrant and beautiful,” 
she said ; “ and hearing my mother and myself speaking of 
them, and how much the former delighted in them, though 
they were so seldom to be had, he just ventured over the cliff 
—not here, where it is so very perpendicular, but yonder, 
where one may cling to it, very well, with a little care — and 
it was in venturing a little — just a very little too far, he told 
me, himself, sir, to-day, after dinner, — that the stone broke, 
and the accident occurred. I do not think Mr. Wycherly 
Wychecombe in the least fool-hardy, and not at all disposed to 
seek a silly admiration, by a silly exploit.” 

“ He has a most lovely and a most eloquent advocate,” 
returned the admiral, smiling, though the expression of his 
countenance was melancholy, even to sadness ; “ and he is 
acquitted. I think few men of his years would hesitate about 


188 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


risking their necks for flowers so fragrant and beautiful, and so 
much coveted by your mother, Mildred.” 

“ And he a sailor, sir, who thinks so little of standing on 
giddy places, and laughs at fears of this nature ?” 

“ Q,uite true ; though there are few clifls on board ship. 
Ropes are our sources of courage.” 

“ So I should think, by what passed to-day,” returned Mil- 
dred, laughing. “ Mr. Wycherly called out for a rope, and we 
just threw him one, to help him out of his difficulty. The 
moment he got his rope, though it was only yonder small sig- 
nal-halyards, he felt himself as secure as if he stood up here, 
on the height, with acres of level ground around him. I do 
not think he was frightened, at any time ; but when he got 
hold of that little rope, he was fairly valiant !” 

Mildred endeavoured to laugh at her own history, by way 
of veiling her interest in the event ; but her companion was 
too old, and too discerning, to be easily deceived. He continued 
silent, as he led her away from the cliff ; and when he entered 
the cottage, Mildred saw, by the nearer light of the candles, 
that his countenance was still sad. 

Admiral Bluewater remained half an hour longer in the 
cottage, when he tore himself away, from a society which, for 
him, possessed a charm that he could not account for, nor yet 
scarcely estimate. It was past one, when he bid Mrs. Hutton 
and her daughter adieu ; promising, however, to see them 
again, before the fleet sailed. Late as it was, the mother and 
Mildred felt no disposition to retire, after the exciting scen(?s 
they had gone through ; but, feeling a calm on their spirits, 
succeeding the rude interruption produced by Dutton’s brutality, 
they walked out on the cliff, to enjoy the cool air, and the 
bland scenery of the head-land, at that witching hour. 

“ I should feel alarm at this particularity of attention, from 
most men, my child,” observed the prudent mother, as they 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


189 


left the house : “ but the years, and especially the character 
of Admiral Bluewater, are pledges that he meditates nothing 
foolish, nor wrong.” 

“ His years would be sufficient, mother,” cried Mildred, 
laughing — for her laugh came easily, since the opinion she had 
just before heard of Wycherly’s merit — “ leaving the character 
out of the question.” 

“For you, perhaps, Mildred, but not for himself. Men 
rarely seem to think themselves too old to win the young of 
our sex ; and what they want in attraction, they generally en- 
deavour to supply by flattery and artifice. But, I acquit our 
new friend of all that.” 

“ Had he been my own father, dearest mother, his lan- 
guage, and the interest he took in me, could not have been 
more paternal. I have found it truly delightful to listen to 
such counsel, from one of his sex ; for, in general, they do not 
treat me in so sincere and fatherly a manner.” 

Mrs. Dutton’s lip quivered, her eye-lids trembled too, and a 
couple of tears fell on her cheeks. 

“ It is new to you, Mildred, to listen to the language of 
disinterested aflection and wisdom from one of his years and 
sex. I do not censure your listening with pleasure, but 
merely tell you to remember the proper reserve of your years 
and cbaracter. Hist ! there are the sounds of his barge’s 
oars.” 

Mildred listened, and the measured but sudden jerk of oars 
in the rullocks, ascended on the still night-air, as distinctly as 
they might have been heard in the boat. At the next instant, 
an eight-oared barge moved swiftly out from under the clifl', 
and glided steadily on towards a ship, that had one lantern 
suspended from the end of her galT, another in her mizzen-top, 
and the small night-flag of a rear-admiral, fluttering at her 
mizzen-royal-mast-head. The cutter lay nearest to the land- 


190 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


ing, and, as the barge appi cached her, the ladies heard the 
loud hail of “ boat-ahoy !” The answer was also audible ; 
though given in the mild gentleman-like voice of Bluewater, 
himself It was simply, “ rear-admiral’s flag.” A death-like 
stillness succeeded thi$ annunciation of the rank of the officer 
in the passing boat, interrupted only by the measured jerk of 
the oars. Once or twice, indeed, the keen hearing of Mildred 
made her fancy she heard the common dip of the eight oars, 
and the wash of the water, as they rose from the element, to 
gain a renewed purchase. As each vessel was approached, 
however, the hail and the answer were renewed, the quiet of 
midnight, in every instance, succeeding. At length the barge 
was seen shooting along on the quarter of the Csesar, the 
rear-admiral’s own ship, and the last hail was given. This 
time, there was a slight stir in the vessel ; and, soon after the 
sound of the oars ceased, the lanterns descended from the sta- 
tions they had held, since nightfall. Two or three other lan- 
terns were still displayed at the gafls of other vessels, the signs 
that their captains were not on board ; though whether they 
were ashore, or visiting in the fleet, were facts best known to 
themselves. The Plantagenet, however, had no light ; it 
being known that Sir Gervaise did not intend to come off that 
night. 

When all this was over, Mrs. Dutton and Mildred sought 
their pillows, after an exciting day, and, to them, one far 
more momentous than they were then aware of. 


CHAPTER XL 


“ When I consider life, ’tis all a cheat; 

Yet fool’d with hope, men favour the deceit ; 

Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay ; 

To-morrow’s falser than the former day.” 

Dryden. 

Although Admiral Blue water devoted the minimum of 
time to sleep, he was not what the French term matinal. 
There is a period in the morning-, on board of a ship of war, — 
that of washing decks, — which can best be compared to the 
discomfort of the American purification, yclep’d “ a house- 
cleaning.” This occurs daily, about the rising of the sun ; and 
no officer, whose rank raises him above mingling with the 
duty, ever thinks, except on extraordinary occasions that may 
require his presence for other purposes, of intruding on its sa- 
cred mysteries. It is a rabid hour in a ship, and the wisest 
course, for all idlers, and aU watch-officers, who are not on 
duty, is to keep themselves under hatches, if their convenience 
will possibly allow it. He who wears a flag, however, is usu- 
ally reposing in his cot, at this critical moment ; or, if risen at 
all, he is going through similar daily ablutions of his own 
person. 

Admiral Bluewater was in the act of opening his eyes, 
when the splash of the first bucket of water was heard on the 
deck of the Caesar, and he lay in the species of enjoyment 
which is so peculiar to naval men, after they have risen to 
the station of commander ; a sort of semi-trance, in which the 
mind summons all the ancient images, connected with squalls j 


192 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


reefing top-sails in the rain ; standing on the quarter of a yard, 
shouting “ haul out to leeward peering over the weather 
hammock-cloths to eye the weather, with the sleet pricking 
the face like needles ; — and, washing decks ! These dreamy 
images of the past, however, are summoned merely to increase 
the sense of present enjoyment. They are so many well- 
contrived foils, to give greater brilliancy to the diamonds of a 
comfortable cot, and the entire consciousness of being no longer 
exposed to an untimely summons on deck. 

Our rear-admiral, nevertheless, was not a vulgar dreamer, 
on such occasions. He thought little of personal comforts at 
any time, unless indeed when personal discomforts obtruded 
themselves on his attention ; he knew little, or nothing, of the 
table, whereas his friend was a knowing cook, and in his days 
of probation had been a distinguished caterer ; hut he was 
addicted to a sort of dreaming of his own, even when the sun 
stood in the zenith, and he was walking the poop, in the 
midst of a circle of his officers. Still, he could not refrain from 
glancing back at the past, that morning, as plash after plash 
was heard, and recalling the time when magna pars qumum 
FUiT. At this delectable instant, the ruddy face of a “ young 
gentleman” appeared in his state-room door, and, first ascer- 
taining that the eyes of his superior were actually open, the 
youngster said — 

“ A note from Sir Gervaise, Admiral Bluewater.” 

“ Very well, sir,” — taking the note. — “ How’s the wind. 
Lord Geoffrey ?” 

“ An Irishman’s hurricane, sir ; right up and down. Our 
first says, sir, he never knew finer channel weather.” 

“ Our first is a great astrologer. Is the fleet riding flood 
yet ?” 

“ No, sir ; it’s slack-water ; or, rather, the ebb is just be- 
ginning to make.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


193 


“ Go on deck, my lord, and see if the Dover has hove in 
any upon her larboard bower, so as to bring her more on our 
quarter.” 

“ Ay-ay-sir,” and this cadet of one of the most illustrious 
houses of England, skipped up the ladder to ascertain this 
fact. 

In the mean while, Bluewater stretched out an arm, drew, 
a curtain from before his little window, fumbled for some time 
among his clothes before he got his spectacles, and then opened 
the note. This early epistle was couched in the following 
words — 

“ Dear Blue : — 

“ I write this in a bed big enough to ware a ninety in. 
I’ve been athwart ships half the night, without knowing it. 
Galleygo has just been in to report ‘ our fleet’ all well, and 
the ships riding flood. It seems there is a good look-out from 
the top of the house, where part of the roads are visible. 
Magrath, and the rest of them, have been at poor Sir Wycher- 
ly all night, I learn, but he remains down by the head, yet. 

I am afraid the good old man will never be in trim again. I 
shall remain here, until something is decided ; and as we 
cannot expect our orders until next day after to-morrow, at 
the soonest, one might as well be here, as on board. Come 
ashore and breakfast with us ; when we can consult about 
the propriety of remaining, or of abandoning the wreck. 
Adieu, 

“ Oakes. 

“Rear-Admiral Bluewater. 

“ P. S. — There was a little occurrence last night, connected 
with Sir Thomas Wychcrly’s will, that makes me particularly 
anxious to see you, as early as possible, this morning. 


17 


0 


194 


THE TWO A D M I [I A L S . 


Sir Gervaise, like a woman, had written his mind in his 
postscript. The scene of the previous night had forcibly pre- 
sented itself to his recollection on awakening, and calling for 
his writing-desk, he had sent off this note, at the dawn of day, 
with the wish of having as many important witnesses as he 
could well obtain, at the mterview he intended to demand, at 
•the earliest practicable hour. 

“ What the deuce can Oakes have to do with Sir Wycherly 
Wychecornbe’s will?” thought the rear-admiral. “By the 
way, that puts me in mind of my own ; and of my own recent 
determination. What are my poor £30,000 to a man with 
the fortune of Lord Bluewater. Having neither a wife nor 
child, brother nor sister of my own. I’ll do what I please with 
my money. Oakes xcon't have it ; besides, he’s got enough of 
his own, and to spare. An estate of £7000 a year, besides 
heaps of prize-money funded. I dare say, he has a good 
£12,000 a year, and nothing but a nephew to inherit it 
all. I’m determined to do as I please with my money. I 
made every shilling of it, and I’ll give it to whom I 
please.” 

The whole time. Admiral Bluewater lay with his eyes shut, 
and with a tongue as motionless as if it couldn’t stir. With 
all his laissez oiler manner, however, he had the promptitude 
of a sailor, when his mind was made up to do a thing, though 
he always performed it in his own peculiar mode. To rise, 
dress, and prepare to quit his state-room, occupied him but a 
short time ; and he was seated before his own writing-desk, in 
the after-cabin, within twenty minutes after the thoughts just 
recorded, had passed through his mind. His first act was to 
take a folded paper from a private drawer, and glance his eye 
carelessly over it. This was the will in favour of Lord Blue- 
water. It was expressed in very cojicise terms, filling only 
the first side of a page. This will he copied, verbatim et 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


195 


literatim, leaving blanks for the name of the legatee, and 
appointing Sir Gervaise Oakes his executor, as in the will 
already executed. When finished in this manner, he set about 
filling up the blanks. For a passing instant, he felt tempted 
to insert the name of the Pretender ; but, smiling at his own 
folly, he wrote that of “ Mildred Dutton, daughter of Francis 
Dutton, a master in His Majesty’s Navy,” in all the places that 
it was requisite so to do. Then he affixed the seal, and, fold- 
ing all the upper part of the sheet over, so as to conceal the 
contents, he rang a little silver bell, which always stood at his 
elbow. The outer cabin-door was opened by the sentry, who 
thrust his head in at the opening. 

“ I want one of the young gentlemen, sentry,” said the 
rear-admiral. 

The door closed, and, in another minute, the smiling face 
of Lord Geoffrey was at the entrance of the after-cabin. 

“ Who’s on deck, my lord,” demanded Bluewater, “ beside 
the watch ?” 

“ No one, sir. All the idlers keep as close as foxes, when 
the decks are getting it ; and as for any of our snorers show- 
ing their faces before six bells, it’s quite out of the question, 
sir.” 

“ Some one must surely be stirring in the gun-room, by 
this time ! Go and ask the chaplain and the captain of ma- 
rines to do me the favour to step into the cabin — or the first 
lieutenant ; or the master ; or any of the idlers.” 

The midshipman was gone two or three minutes, when he 
returned with the purser and the chaplain. 

“ The first lieutenant is in the forehold, sir ; all the ma- 
rines have got their dead-lights still in, and the master is 
working-up his log, the gun-room steward says. I hope 
these will do, sir ; they are the greatest idlers in the ship, I 
believe. ” 


19G 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Lord Geoffrey Cleveland was the second son of the third 
duke in the English empire, and he knew it, as well as any 
one on board. Admiral Bluewater had no slavish respect for 
rank ; nevertheless, like all men educated under an aristocratic 
system, he was influenced by the feeling to a degree of which 
he himself was far from being conscious. This young scion of 
nobility was not in the least favoured in matters of duty, for 
this his own high spirit would have resented ; hut he dined in 
the cabin twice as often as any other midshipman on hoard, 
and had obtained for himself a sort of license for the tongue, 
that emboldened him to utter what passed for smart things in 
the cockpit and gun-room, and which, out of all doubt, were 
pert things everywhere. Neither the chaplain nor the purser 
took oflence at his liberties on the present occasion ; and, as 
for the rear-admiral, he had not attended to what had been 
uttered. As soon, however, as he found others in his cabin, he 
motioned to them to approach his desk, and pointed to the 
paper, folded down, as mentioned. 

“ Every prudent man,” he said, “ and, especially every 
prudent sailor and soldier, in a time of war, ought to be pro- 
vided with a will. This is mine, just drawn up, by myself; 
and that instrument is an old one, which I now destroy in 
your presence. I acknowledge this to he my hand and seal,” 
writing his name, and touching the seal with a finger as he 
spoke ; “ aflixed to this my last will and testament. Will you 
have the kindness to act as witnesses ?” 

When the chaplain and purser had affixed their names, 
there still remained a space for a third signature. This, by a 
sign from his superior, the laughing midshipman filled with his 
own signature. 

“ I hope you’ve recollected, sir,” cried the boy, with glee, 
as he took his seat to obey ; “ that the Bluewaters and Cleve- 
lands are related. I shall be grievously disappointed, when 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


197 


this will is proved, if my name be not found somewhere 
in it !” 

“ So shall I, too, my lord,” drily returned Bluewater ; 
“ for, I fully expect it will appear as a witness ; a character 
that is at once fatal to all claims as a legatee.” 

“ Well, sir, I suppose flag-officers can do pretty much as 
they please with their money, since they do pretty much as 
they please with the ships, and all in them. I must lean so 
much the harder on my two old aunts, as I appear to 
have laid myself directly athwart-hawse of fortune, in this 
affair !” 

“ Gentlemen,” said the rear-admiral, with easy courtesy, 
“ I regret it is not in my power to have your company at din- 
ner, to-day, as I am summoned ashore by Sir Gervaise, and it 
is uncertain when I can get off, again ; but to-morrow I shall 
hope to enjoy that pleasure.” 

The officers bowed, expressed their acknowledgments, ac- 
cepted the invitation, bowed once or twice more each, and left 
the cabin, with the exception of the midshipman. 

“ Well, sir,” exclaimed Bluewater, a little surprised at 
finding he was not alone, after a minute of profound reverie ; 
“ to what request am I indebted still for the pleasure of your 
presence ?” 

“ Why, sir, it’s just forty miles to my father’s house in 
Cornwall, and I know the whole family is there ; so I just 
fancied, that by bending on two extra horses, a chaise might 
make the Park gates in about five hours ; and by getting 
under way on the return passage, to-morrow about this 
time, the old Caesar would never miss a crazy reefer, more or 
less.” 

“Very ingeniously put, young gentleman, and quite plausi- 
ble. When I was of your age, I was four years without onco 

seeing either father or mother.” 

17 * 


198 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Yes, sir, but that was such a long time ago ! Boys can’t 
stand it, half as well now, as they did then, as all old people 
Bay.” 

The rear-admiral’s lips moved slightly, as if a smile strug- 
gled about his mouth ; then his face suddenly lost the expres- 
sion, in one approaching to sadness. 

“You know, Geoffrey, I am not commander-in-chief. Sir 
Gervaise alone can give a furlough.” 

“ Very true, sir ; but whatever you ask of Sir Gervaise, 
he always does ; more especially as concerns us of your flag- 
ship.” 

“ Perhaps that is true. But, my boy, we live in serious 
times, and we may sail at an hour’s notice. Are you ignorant 
that Prince Charles Edward has landed in Scotland, and that 
the Jacobites are up and doing ? If the French back him, we 
may have our hands full here, in the channel.” 

“ Then my dear mother must go without a kiss, for the 
next twelvemonth !” cried the gallant boy, dashing a hand 
furtively across his eyes, in spite of his resolution. “ The 
throne of old England must be upheld, even though not a 
mother nor a sister in the island, see a midshipman in 
years !” 

“ Nobly said, Lord Geoflrey, and it shall be known at 
head-quarters. Your family is whig ; and you do well, at 
your time of life, to stick to the family politics.” 

“ A small run on the shore, sir, would be a great pleasure, 
after six months at sea ?” 

“ You must ask Captain Stowel’s leave for that. You 
know I never interfere with the duty of the ship.” 

“ Yes, sir, but there are so many of us, and all have a 
hankering after terra firma. Might I just say, that I have 
your permission, to ask Captain Stowel, to let me have a run 
on the cliffs ?” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


iy9 

“ You may do tliat^ my lord, if you wish it ; but Stowel 
knows that he can do as he pleases.” 

“He would be a queer captain of a man-of-war, if he 
did’nt, sir ! Thank you. Admiral Bluewater ; I will write 
to my mother, and I know she’ll be satisfied with the reason 
I shall give her, for not coming to see her. Good-morning, 
sir.”' 

“ Good-morning,” — then, when the hoy’s hand was on the 
lock of the cahin-door — “ my lord ?” 

“ Did you wish to say any thing more, sir ?” 

“ When you write, remember me kindly to the Duchess, 
We were intimate, when young people ; and, I might say, 
loved each other.” 

The midshipman promised to do as desired ; then the 
rear-admiral was left alone. He walked the cabin, for half 
an hour, musing on what he had done in relation to his prop- 
erty, and on what he ought to do, in relation to the Pretender ; 
when he suddenly summoned his coxswain, gave a few direc- 
tions, and sent an order on deck to have his barge manned. 
The customary reports went their usual rounds, and reached 
the cabin in about three minutes more ; Lord Geoffrey bringing 
them down, again. 

“ The barge is manned, sir,” said the lad, standing near 
the cabin-door, rigged out in the neat, go-ashore-clothes of a 
midshipman. 

“ Have you seen Captain Stowel, my lord ?” demanded 
the rear-admiral. 

“ I have, sir ; and he has given me permission to drift 
along shore, until sunset ; to be off with the evening gun of 
the vice-admiral.” 

“ Then do me the favour to take a seat in my barge, if you 
are quite ready.” 

Tliis offer was accepted, and, in a few minutes, all the 


200 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


ceremonies of the deck had been observed, and the rear-admiral 
was seated in his barge. It was now so late, that etiquette 
had fair play, and no point was omitted on the occasion. The 
captain was on deck, in person, as well as gun-room officers 
enough to represent their body ; the guard was paraded, under 
its officers ; the drums rolled ; the boatswain piped six side 
boys over, and Lord Geoffrey skipped down first into the boat, 
remaining respectfully standing, until his superior was seated. 
All these punctilios observed, the boat was shoved off from the 
vessel’s side, the eight oars dropped, as one, and the party 
moved towards the shore. Every cutter, barge, yawl, or launch 
that was met, and which did not contain an officer of rank 
itself, tossed its oars, as this barge, with the rear-admiral’s flag 
fluttering in its bow, passed, while the others lay on theirs, the 
gentlemen saluting with their hats. In this manner the barge 
passed the fleet, and approached the shore. At the landing, 
a little natural quay formed by a low flat rock, there was a 
general movement, as the rear-admiral’s flag was seen to draw 
near ; and even the “iDoats of captains were shoved aside, to 
give the naval pas. As soon, how'ever, as the foot of Bluewater 
touched the rock, the little flag was struck ; and, a minute 
later, a cutter, with only a lieutenant in her, coming in, that 
officer ordered the barge to make way for him, with an air of 
high and undisputed authority. 

Perhaps there was not a man in the British marine, to 
whom the etiquette of the service gave less concern, than to 
Bluewater. In this respect, he was the very reverse of his 
friend ; for Sir Gervaise was a punctilious observer, and a 
rigid enforcer of all the prescribed ceremonials. This was by 
no means the only professional point on which these two dis- 
tinguished officers differed. It has already been mentioned, 
that the rear-admiral was the best tactician in England, while 
the vice-admiral was merely respectable in that branch of his 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


201 


duty. On the other hand, Sir Gervaisc was deemed the best 
practical seaman afloat, so far as a single ship was concerned, 
while Bluewater had no particular reputation in that way. 
Then, as to discipline, the same distinction existed. The com- 
mander-in-chief was a little of a martinet^ exacting compliance 
with the most minute regulations ; while his friend, even when 
a captain, had throwm the police duty of his ship very much 
on what is called the executive officer ; or the first lieutenant ; 
leaving to that important functionary, the duty of devising, as 
well as of executing the system by which order and cleanliness 
were maintained in the vessel. Nevertheless, Bluewater had 
his merit even in this peculiar feature of the profession. He 
had made the best captain of the fleet to his friend, that had 
ever been met with. This office, which, in some measure, 
corresponds to that of an adjutant-general on shore, was suited 
to his generalizing and philosophical turn of mind ; and he 
had brought all its duties within the circle and control of clear 
and simple principles, which rendered them pleasant and easy. 
Then, too, whenever he commanded in chief, as frequently 
happened, for a week or two at a time, Sir Gervaise being 
absent, it was remarked that the common service of the fleet 
went on like clock-work ; his mind seeming to embrace gen- 
erals, when it refused to descend to details. In consequence 
of these personal peculiarities, the captains often observed, that 
Bluewater ought to have been the senior, and Oakes the junior; 
and then, their joint commands would have produced perfec- 
tion ; but these criticisms must be set down, in a great meas- 
ure, to the natural propensity to find fault, and an inherent 
desire in men, even when things are perfectly well in them- 
selves, to prove their own superiority, by pointing out modes 
and means by which they might be made much better. Had 
the service been on land, this opinion might possibly have had 
more practical truth in it ; but, the impetuosity and daring of 


202 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Sir Gervaise, were not bad substitutes for tactics, in the straight- 
forward combats of ships. To resume the narrative. 

When Bluewater landed, he returned the profound and gen- 
eral salute of all on or near the rock, b}^ a sweeping, but cour- 
teous bow, which was nevertheless given in a vacant, slovenly 
manner ; and immediately began to ascend the ravine. He 
had actually reached the grassy acclivity above, before he was 
at all aware of any person’s being near him. Turning, he 
perceived that the midshipman was at his heels, respect 
alone preventing one of the latter’s active limbs and years 
from skipping past his superior on the ascent. The admiral 
recollected how little there was to amuse one of the boy’s 
habits in a place like Wychecombe, and he good-naturedly 
determined to take him along with himself 

“ You are little likely to find any diversion here. Lord 
Geoffrey,” he said ; “ if you will accept of the society of a 
dull old fellow’, like myself, you shall see all I see, be it more 
or less.” 

“ I’ve shipped for the cruise, sir, and am ready and happy, 
too, to follow your motions, wdth or without signals,” returned 
the laughing youngster. “ I suppose Wychecombe is about as 
good as Portsmouth, or Plymouth ; and I’m sure these green 
fields are handsomer than the streets of any dirty town I ever 
entered.” 

“ Ay, green fields are, indeed, pleasant to the eyes of us 
sailors, who see nothing but water, for months at a time. 
Turn to the right, if you please, my lord ; I wish to call at 
yonder signal-station, on my way to the Hall.” 

The boy, as is not usual wdth lads of his age, inclined in 
“ the way he was told to go,” and in a few minutes both stood 
on the head-land. As it would not have done for the master 
to be absent from his staff', during the day, with a fleet in 
the roads, Dutton was already at his post, cleanly dressed as 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


203 


usual, but trembling again with the effect of the last night’s 
debauch on his nerves. He arose, with great deference of 
manner, to receive the rear-admiral, and not vdthout many 
misgivings of conscience ; for, while memory furnished a tol- 
erable outline of what had occurred in the interview be- 
t\veen himself and his wife and daughter, wine had lost its 
influence, and no longer helped to sustain his self-command. 
He was much relieved, however, by the discreet manner in 
which he was met by Bluewater. 

“ How is Sir Wycherly ?” inquired the admiral saluting 
the master, as if nothing had happened ; “ a note from Sir 
Gervaise, written about day-break, tells me he was not, then, 
essentially better.” 

“ I wish it were in my power to give you any good news, 
sir. He must be conscious, notwithstanding ; for Dick, his 
groom, has just ridden over with a note from Mr. Hotherham, 
to say that the excellent old baronet particularly desires to see 
my wife and daughter ; and that the coach will be here, to 
take them over in a few minutes. If you are bound to the 
Hall, this morning, sir, I’m certain the ladies would be de- 
lighted to give you a seat.” 

“ Then I will profit by their kindness,” returned Blue- 
water, seating himself on the bench at the foot of the staff ; 
“ more especially, if you think they will excuse my adding 
Lord Geoffrey Cleveland, one of Stowel’s midshipmen, to the 
party. He has entered, to follow my motions, with or without 
signals.” 

Dutton uncovered again, and bowed profoundly, at this 
announcement of the lad’s name and rank ; the boy himself, 
taking the salute in an off-hand and indifferent way, like one 
already wearied with vulgar adulation, while be gazed about 
him, with some curiosity, at the head-land and flag-staff. 

“ This a good look-out, sir,” observed the midshipman ; 


204 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ and one that is somewhat loftier than our cross-trees. A 
pair of sharp eyes might see every thing that passes within 
twenty miles ; and, as a proof of it, I shall he the first to sing 
out, ‘sail, ho !’ ” 

“ Where-away, my ydunglord ?” said Dutton, fidgeting, as 
if he had neglected his duty, in the presence of a superior ; 
“ I’m sure, your lordship can see nothing but the fleet at 
anchor, and a few boats passing between the difierent ships 
and the landing !” 

“ Where-away, sure enough, youngster ?” added the ad- 
miral. “ I see some gulls glancing along the surface of the 
water, a mile or two outside the ships, but nothing like a 
sail.” 

The boy caught up Dutton’s glass, which lay on the seat, 
and, in a minute, he had it levelled at the expanse of water. 
It was some little time, and not without much sighting along 
the barrel of the instrument, that he got it to suit himself. 

“ Well, Master Sharp-eyes,” said Bluewater, drily, “ is it 
a Frenchman, or a Spaniard ?” 

“ Hold on, a moment, sir, until I can get this awkward 
glass to bear on it. — Ay — now I have her — she’s but a speck, 
at the best — royals and head of top-gallant-sails — no, sir, by 
George, it’s our own cutter, the Active, with her squaresail set, 
and the heads of her lower sails just rising.^ I know her by 
the w^ay she carries her gaff.” 

“The Active ! — ^that betokens news,” observed Bluewater, 
thoughtfully — for the march of events, at that moment, must 
necessarily brink on a crisis in his own career. “ Sir Gervaise 
sent her to look into Cherbourg.” 

“ Yes, sir ; we all know that — and, there she comes to tell 
us, I hope, that Monsieur de Vervillin, has, at last, made up 
his mind to come out and face us, like a man. Will you look 
at the sail, sir ?” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


205 


Bluewater took the glass, and sweeping the horizon, he 
soon caught a view of his object. A short survey sufficed, for 
one so experienced, and he handed the glass back to the hoy. 

“ You have quick eyes, sir,” he said, as he did so ; “ that 
is a cutter, certainly, standing in for the roads, and I believe 
you may be right in taking her for the Active.” 

“ ’Tis a long way to know so small a craft !” observed 
Dutton, who also took his look at the stranger. 

o 

“ Very true, sir,” answered the boy ; “ but one ought to tell 
a friend as far as he can see him. The Active carries a longer 
and a lower gaff, than any other cutter in the navy, which is 
the way we all tell her from the Gnat, the cutter we have 
with us.” 

“ I am glad to find your lordship is so close an observer,” 
returned the complaisant Dutton ; “a certain sign, my lord, 
that your lordship will make a good sailor, in time.” 

“ Geoffrey is a good sailor, already,” observed the admiral, 
who knew that the youngster was never better pleased, than 
when he dropped the distance of using his title, and spoke to, 
or of him, as of a connection ; which, in truth, he was. “ He 
has now been with me four years ; having joined when he 
was only twelve. Two more years will make an officer of 
him.” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Dutton, bowing first to one, and then to 
the other. “ Yes, sir ; his lordship may well look forward to 
that, with his particular merit, your esteemed favour, and his 
oivn great name. Ah ! sir, they’ve caught a sight of the 
stranger in the fleet, and bunting is at work, already.” 

In anchoring his ships. Admiral Bluewater had kept them 
as close together, as the fog rendered safe ; for one of the great 
difficulties of a naval commander is to retain his vessels in 
compact order, in thick or heavy weather. Orders had been 
given, however, for a sloop and a frigate to weigh, and stretch 

18 


206 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


out into the offing a league or two, as soon as the fog left them, 
the preceding day, in order to sweep as wide a reach of the 
horizon as was convenient. In order to maintain their ground 
in a light wind, and wnth a strong tide running, these tw'O 
cruisers had anchored ; one, at the distance of a league from 
the fleet, and the other, a mile or two farther outside, though 
more to the eastward. The sloop lay nearest to the stranger, 
and signals were flying at her main-royal-mast-head, which the 
frigate was repeating, and transmitting to the flag-ship of the 
commander-in-chief Bluewater was so familiar with all the 
ordinary signals, that it was seldom he had recourse to his 
hook for the explanations ; and, in the present instance, he 
saw at once that it was the Active’s number that was shown. 
Other signals, however, follow'ed, which it surpassed the rear- 
admiral’s knowledge to read, without assistance ; from all 
which he was satisfied that the stranger brought intelligence 
of importance, and which could only be understood by referring 
to the private signal-book. 

While these facts were in the course of occurrence, the 
coach arrived to convey Mrs. Dutton and Mildred to the 
Hall. Bluewater now presented himself to the ladies, and 
was received as kindly as they had separated from him a few 
hours before ; nor were the latter displeased at hearing he 
was to be their companion back to the dwelling of Sir 
Wycherly. 

“ I fear this summons bodes evil tidings,” said Mrs. Dut- 
ton ; “he would hardly think of desiring to see us, unless 
something quite serious were on his mind ; and the messenger 
said he was no better.” 

“We shall learn all, my dear lady, when we reach the 
Hall,” returned Bluewater ; “ and the sooner we reach it, the 
sooner our doubts will be removed. Before we enter the car- 
riage, let me make you acquainted with my young friend, Lord 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


20 ^ 


Geoffrey Cleveland, whom I have presumed to invite to be of 
the party.” 

The handsome young midshipman w^as well received, 
though Mrs. Dutton had been too much accustomed, in early 
life, to see people of condition, to betray the same deference as 
her husband for the boy’s rank. The ladies occupied, as usual, 
the hind seat of the coach, leaving that in front to their male 
companions. The arrangement accidentally brought Mildred 
and the midshipman opposite each other ; a circumstance 
that soon attracted the attention of the admiral, in a way that 
w'as a little odd ; if not remarkable. There is a charm in 
youth, that no other period of life possesses ; infancy, with its 
helpless beauty, scarcely seizing upon the imagination and 
senses with an equal force. Both the young persons in ques- 
tion, possessed this advantage in a high degree ; and had there 
been no other peculiarity, the sight might readily have proved 
pleasing to one of Bluewater’s benevolence and truth of feel- 
ing. The boy was turned of sixteen ; an age in England 
when youth does not yet put on the appearance of manhood ; 
and he retained all the evidences of a gay, generous boyhood, 
rendered a little inquant, by the dash of archness, roguery, 
and fun, that a man-of-war is tolerably certain to impart to a 
lad of spirit. Nevertheless, his countenance retained an ex- 
pression of ingenuousness and of sensitive feeling, that was sin- 
gularly striking in one of his sex, and which, in spite of her 
beauty of feature, hair, and complexion, formed the strongest 
attraction in the loveliness of Mildred ; that expression, which 
had so much struck and charmed Bluewater — haunted him, 
we might add — since the previous day, by appearing so famil- 
iar, even while so extraordinary, and for which he had been 
unable to recollect a counterpart. As she now sat, face to 
face with Lord Geoffrey, to his great surprise, the rear-admiral 
found much of the same character of this very expression in 


208 THE TWO ADMIRALS. 

the handsome hoy, as in the lovely girl. It is true, the look 
of ingenuousness and of sensitive feeling, was far less marked 
in young Cleveland, than in Mildred, and there was little gen- 
eral resemblance of feature or countenance between the two ; 
still, the first was to he found in both, and so distinctly, as to 
be easily traced, when placed in so close contact. GeofTrey 
Cleveland had the reputation of being like his mother ; and, 
furnished with this clue, the fact suddenly flashed on Blue- 
water’s mind, that the being whom Mildred so nearly and 
strikingly resembled, was a deceased sister of the Duchess, and 
a beloved cousin of his owui. Miss Hedworth, the young lady 
in question, had long been dead ; but, all who had known her, 
retained the most pleasing impressions equally of her charms 
of person and of mind. Between her and Bluewater there had 
existed a tender friendship, in which, however, no shade of 
passion had mingled ; a circumstance that was in part owing 
to the difference in their years. Captain Bluewater having 
been nearly twice his young relative’s age ; and in part, prob- 
ably, to the invincible manner in which the latter seemed 
wedded to his profession, and his ship. Agnes Hedworth, not- 
withstanding, had been very dear to our sailor, from a variety 
of causes, — far more so, than her sister, the Duchess, though 
she was a favourite — and the rear-admiral, when his mind 
glanced rapidly through the chain of association, that traced 
the accidental resemblance of Mildred to this esteemed object, 
had a sincere delight in finding he had thus been unconsciously 
attracted by one whose every look and smile now forcibly re- 
minded him of the countenance of a being whom, in her day, 
he had thought so near perfection. This delight, however, was 
blended with sadness, on various accounts ; and the short ex- 
cursion proved to be so melancholy, that no one was sorry 
when it terminated. 


CHAPTER XI. 


“JV*a<. Truly, Master Ilolofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a schols 
at the least. But, sir, I assure ye, it was a buck of the first head. 

Hoi. Sir Nathaniel, haud credo. 

Bull. ’Twas not a haud credo^ ’twas a pricket.” 

Love's Labour Lost 


Every appearance of the jolly negligence which had been 
so characteristic of life at Wychecombe-Hall, had vanished, 
when the old coach drew np in the court, to permit the 
party it had brought from the station to alight. As no one 
was expected but Mrs. Dutton and her daughter, not even a 
footman appeared to open the door of the carriage ; the 
vulgar-minded usually revenging their own homage to the 
powerful, by manifesting as many slights as possible to the 
weak. Galleygo let the new-comers out, and, consequently, 
he was the first person of whom inquiries were made, as to 
the state of things in the house. 

“ Well,” said Admiral Bluewater, looking earnestly at the 
steward ; “ how is Sir Wycherly, and what is the news ?” 

“ Sir Wycherly is still on the doctor’s list, your honour ; 
and I expects his case is set down as a hard ’un. We’s as well 
as can be expected, and altogether in good heart. Sir Jarvy 
turned out with the sun, thof he did’nt turn in ’till the middle- 
watch was half gone — or Uvo bells, as they calls ’em aboard 
this house — -four bells, as we should say in the old Planter — 
and chickens, I hears, has riz, a shillin’ a head, since our first 
boat landed.” 


IS* 


210 


THE TWO admirals. 




“ It’s a melancholy business, Mrs, Dutton ; I fear there can 
be little hope.” 

“ Yes, it’s all that, Admiral Blue,” continued Galleygo, fol- 
lowing the party into the house, no one but himself hearing a 
word he uttered ; “ and ’twill be wwse, afore it’s any better. 
They tells me potaties has taken a start, too ; and, as all the 
b’ys of all the young gentlemen in the fleet is out, like so many 
wild locusts of Hegj'^pt, I expects nothing better than as our 
mess w'ill fare as bad as sogers on a retreat.” 

In the hall, Tom "VYychecombe, and his namesake, the 
lieutenant, met the party. From the formal despondency of 
the first, every thing they apprehended was confirmed. The 
last, however, was more cheerful, and not altogether without 
hope ; as he did not hesitate openly to avow. 

“ For myself, I confess I think Sir Wycherly much better,” 
he said ; “ although the opinion is not sanctioned by that of 
the medical men. His desiring to see these ladies is favourable ; 
and then cheering news for him has been brought back, already, 
by the messenger sent, only eight hours since, for his kinsman. 
Sir Reginald Wychecombe. He has sensibly revived since 
that report was brought in.” 

“ Ah ! my dear namesake,” rejoined Tom, shaking his 
head, mournfully ; “ you cannot know my beloved uncle’s con- 
stitution and feelings as well as I ! Rely on it, the medical men 
are right ; and your hopes deceive you. The sending for Mrs. 
Dutton and Miss Mildred, both of whom my honoured uncle 
respects and esteems, looks more like leave-taking than any 
thing else ; and, as to Sir Reginald Wychecombe, — though a 
relative, beyond a question, — I think there has been some mis- 
take in sending for him ; since he is barely an acquaintance of 
the elder branch of the family, and he is of the half-blood.” 

“ Half what, Mr. Thomas Wychecombe ?” demanded the 
vice-admiral so suddenly, behind the speaker, as to cause all 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


211 


to start ; Sir Gervaise having hastened to meet the ladies and 
his friend, as soon as he knew of their arrival. “ I ask pardon, 
sir, for my abrupt inquiry ; but, as I was the means of sending 
for Sir Reginald Wychecornbe, I feel an interest in knowing 
his exact relationship to my host ?” 

Tom started, and even paled, at this sudden question ; then 
the colour rushed into his temples ; he became calmer, and 
replied : 

“ Half-blood, Sir Gervaise,” he said, steadily. “ This is an 
affinity that puts a person altogether out of the line of suc- 
cession ; and, of course, removes any necessity, or wish, to see 
Sir Reginald.” 

“ Half-5/ooc? — hey ! Atwood ?” muttered the vice-admiral, 
turning away towards his secretary, who had followed him 
down stairs. “ This may be the solution, after all ! Do you 
happen to know what \i?i\i-blood means ? It cannot signify 
that Sir Reginald comes from one of those, who have no 
father — all their ancestry consisting only of a mother ?” 

“ I should think not. Sir Gervaise ; in that case, Sir 
Reiginald would scarcely be considered of so honourable a 
lineage, as he appears to be. I have not the smallest idea, sir, 
what hdli-blood means ; and, perhaps, it may not be amiss to 
inquire of the medical gentiemen. Magrath is up^ stairs ; 
possibly he can tell us.” 

“ I rather think it has something to do with the law. If 
this out-of-the-way place, now, could furnish even a lubberly 
attorney, we might learn all about it. Harkee, Atwood ; you 
must stand by to make Sir Wycherly’s will, if he says any 
thing more about it — have you got the heading all written out, 
as I desired.” 

“ It is quite ready. Sir Gervaise — beginning, as usual, ‘In 
the name of God, Amen.’ I have even ventured so far as to 
describe the testator’s style and residence, &c. &c. — ‘ I, Sir 


212 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Wycherly Wychecombe, Bart., of Wychecombe Hall, Devon, 
do make and declare this to be my last will and testament, 
&c. &c.’ Nothing is ■w’anting but the devises, as the lawyers 
call them. I can manage a will, well enough. Sir Gervaise, I 
believe, One of mine has been in the courts, now, these five 
years, and they tell me it sticks there, as well as if it had been 
drawn in the Middle Temple.” 

“ Ay, I know your skill. Still, there can be no harm in just 
asking Magrath ; though I think it must be law, after all ! 
Run up and ask him, Atwood, and bring me the answer in the 
drawing-room, where I see Bluewater has gone with his con- 
voy ; and — harkee — tell the surgeons to let us know the instant 
the patient says any thing about his temporal affairs. The 
twenty thousand in the funds are his, to do what he pleases 
with ; let the land be tied up, as it may.” 

While this “ aside,” was going on in the hall, Bluewater 
and the rest of the party had entered a small parlour, that 
was in constant use, still conversing of the state of Sir 
Wycherly. As all of them, but the two young men, were 
ignorant of the nature of the message to Sir Reginald Wyche- 
combe, and of the intelligence in connection with that gentle- 
man, which had just been received, Mrs. Dutton ventured 
to ask an explanation, which was given by Wycherly, with a 
readiness that proved he felt no apprehensions on the subject. 

“ Sir Wycherly desired to see his distant relative. Sir 
Reginald,” said the lieutenant ; “ and the messenger who was 
sent to request his attendance, fortunately learned from a post- 
boy, that the Hertfordshire baronet, in common with many 
other gentlemen, is travelling in the west, just at this moment ; 
and that he slept last night, at a house only twenty miles 
distant. The express reached him several hours since, and an 
answer has been received, informing us that we may expect to 
see him, in an hour or two.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


213 


Thus much was related by Wycherly ; but, we may add 
that Sir Reginald Wychecombe was a Catholic, as it was then 
usual to term the Romanists, and in secret, a Jacobite ; and, 
in common with many of that religious persuasion, he wag 
down in the west, to see if a rising could not be organized in 
that part of the kingdom, as a diversion to any attempt to repel 
the young Pretender in the north. As the utmost caution was 
used by the conspirators, this fact was not even suspected by 
any who were not in the secret of the whole proceeding. Un- 
derstanding that his relation was an inefficient oLd man. Sir 
Reginald, himself an active and sagacious intriguer, had ap- 
proached thus near to the old paternal residence of his family, 
in order to ascertain if his own name and descent might not 
aid him in obtaining levies among the ancient tenantry of the 
estate. That day he had actually intended to appear at 
Wychecombe, disguised, and under an assumed name. He 
proposed venturing on this step, because circumstances put it in 
his power, to give what he thought w'ould be received as a 
sufficient excuse, should his conduct excite comment. 

Sir Reginald Wychecombe was a singular, but by no means 
an unnatural compound of management and integrity. His 
position as a Papist had disposed him to intrigue, while his 
position as one proscribed by religious hostility, had disposed 
him to be a Papist. Thousands are made men of activity, 
and even of importance, by persecution and proscription, who 
would pass through life quietly and unnoticed, if the meddling 
hand of human forethought did not force them into situations 
that awaken their hostility, and quicken their powers. This 
gentleman was a firm believer in all the traditions of his 
church, though his learning extended little beyond his missal ; 
and he put the most implicit reliance on the absurd, because 
improbable, fiction of the Nag’s Head consecration, without 
having even deemed it necessary to look into a particle of that 


214 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


testimony by which alone such a controversy could be decided. ■ 
In a word, he was an instance of what religious intolerance I 
has ever done, and will probably for ever continue to do, with I 
so Avayward a being as man. ■ 

Apart from this weakness. Sir Reginald Wychecombe had 
both a shrewd and an inquiring mind. His religion he left 
very much to the priests ; but of his temporal affairs he as- 
sumed a careful and prudent supervision. He was much 
richer than the head of the family ; but, while he had no 
meannesses connected with money, he had no objection to 
be the possessor of the old family estates. Of his own rela- 
tion to the head of this family, he was perfectly aware, and 
the circumstance of the half-blood, with all its legal conse- 
quences, was no secret to him. Sir Reginald Wychecombe 
was not a man to be so situated, without having recourse 
to all proper means, in order, as it has become the fashion of 
the day to express it, “ to define his position.” By means of a 
shrew’^d attorney, if not of his own religious, at least of his 
own political opinions, he had ascertained the fact, and this 
from the mouth of Martha herself, that Baron Wychecombe 
had never married ; and that, consequently, Tom and his 
brothers were no more heirs at law to the Wychecombe estate, 
than he was in his own person. He fully understood, too, that 
there iva^ no heir at law ; and that the lands must escheat, 
unless the present owner made a will ; and to this last act, 
his precise information told him that Sir Wycherly had an un- 
conquerable reluctance. Under such circumstances, it is not 
at all surprising, that when the Hertfordshire baronet was 
thus unexpectedly summoned to the bed-side of his distant 
kinsman, he inferred that his own claims were at length to be 
tardily acknowledged, and that he was about to be put in pos- ' 
session of the estates of his legitimate ancestors. It is still 
less wonderful, that, believing this, he promptly promised to 


THE TWO admirals. 


215 


lose no time in obeying the summons, determining momentarily 
to forget his political, in order to look a little after his personal 
interests. 

The reader will understand, of course, that all these details 
were unknown to the inmates of the Hall, beyond the fact 
of the expected arrival of Sir Reginald Wychecombe, and that 
of the circumstance of the half-blood ; which, in its true 
bearing, was known alone to Tom. Their thoughts were 
directed towards the situation of their host, and little was said, 
or done, that had not his immediate condition for the object. 
It being understood, however, that the surgeons kept the sick 
chamber closed against all visiters, a silent and melancholy 
breakfast was taken by the whole party, in waiting for the 
moment when they might be admitted. When this cheerless 
meal was ended. Sir Gervaise desired Blue water to follow 
him to his room, whither he led the way in person. 

“It is possible, certainly, that Vervillin is out,” commenced 
the vice-admiral, when they were alone ; “ but we shall know 
more about it, when the cutter gets in, and reports. You saw 
nothing but her number, I think you told me ?” 

“ She was at work with private signals, w'hen I left the 
head-land ; of course I was unable to read them without the 
book.” 

“ That Vervillin is a good fellow,” returned Sir Gervaise, 
rubbing his hands ; a W'ay he had when much pleased ; “ and 
has stuff in him. He has thirteen two-decked ships, Dick, and 
that will be one apiece for our captains, and a spare one for 
each of our flags. I believe there is no three-decker in that 
squadron ?” 

“ There you’ve made a small mistake. Sir Gervaise, as the 
Comte de Vervillin had his flag in the largest three-decker of 
France ; le Bourbon 120. The rest of his ships are like our 
own, though much fuller manned.’ 


216 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Never mind, Blue — never mind : — we’ll put two on the 
Bourbon, and try to make our frigates of use. Besides, you 
have a knack at keeping the fleet so compact, that it is nearly 
a single battery.” 

“ May I venture to ask, then, if it’s your intention to go 
out, should the news by the Active prove to be what you 
anticipate ?” 

Sir Gervaise cast a quick, distrustful glance at the other, 
anxious to read the motive for the question, at the same time 
that he did not wish to betray his own feelings ; then he ap- 
peared to meditate on the answer. 

“ It is not quite agreeable to lie here, chafing our cables, 
with a French squadron roving the channel,” he said ; “ but 
I rather think it’s my duty to wait for orders from the Admi- 
ralty, under present circumstances.” 

“ Do you expect my lords will send you through the Straits 
of Dover, to blockade the Frith ?” 

“ If they do. Blue water, I shall hope for your company. 
I trust, a night’s rest has given you different views of wdiat 
ought to be a seaman’s duty, when his country is at open war 
with her ancient and most powerful enemies.” 

“ It is the prerogative of the croivn to declare war, Oakes. 
No one but a lawful sovereign can make a lawful war.” 

“ Ay, here come your cursed distinctions about de jure 
and de facto, again. By the way, Dick, you are something of 
a scholar — can you tell me w^hat is understood by calling a man 
a nullus ?” 

Admiral Bluewater, ,who had taken his usual lolling at- 
titude in the most comfortable chair he could find, while his 
more mercurial friend kept pacing the room, now raised his 
head in surprise, following the quick motions of the other, with 
his eyes, as if he doubted whether he had rightly heard the 
question. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


217 


** It’s plain English, is it not ? — or plain Latin^ if you will 
— what is meant by calling a man a nullus ?” repeated Sir 
Gervaise, observing the other’s manner. 

“ The Latin is plain enough, certainly,” returned Blue- 
water, smiling ; “ you surely do not mean nullus, nulla, 
nullum?'' 

“ Exactly that — you’ve hit it to a gender, — Nullus, nulla, 
nullum. No man, no woman, no tiling. Masculine, femi- 
nine, neuter.” 

“ I never heard the saying. If ever used, it must be some 
silly play on sounds, and mean a numskull — or, perhaps, a 
fling at a fellow’s position, by saying he is a ‘ nobody.’ Who 
the deuce has been calling another a nullus, in the presence of 
the commander-in-chief of the southern squadron ?” 

“ Sir Wycherly Wychecombe — our unfortunate host, 
here : the poor man who is on his death-bed, on this very 
floor.” 

Again Bluewater raised his head, and once more his eye 
sought the face of his friend. Sir Gervaise had now stopped 
short, with his hands crossed behind his back, looking intently 
at the other, in expectation of the answer. 

“ I thought it might be some difficulty from the fleet — 
some silly fellow complaining of another still more silly for 
using such a word. Sir Wycherly ! — the poor man’s mind must 
have failed him.” 

“ I rather think not ; if it has, there is ‘ method in his mad- 
ness,’ for he persevered most surprisingly, in the use of the 
term. His nephew, Tom Wychecombe, the presumptive heir, 
he insists on it, is a nullus ; while this Sir Reginald, who is 
expected to arrive every instant, he says is only half- — or half- 
hlood, as it has since been explained to us.” 

“ I am afraid this nephew will prove to be any thing but 
nullus, when he succeeds to the estate and title,” answered 

ID 


218 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Bluewater, gravely. “ A more sinister-looking scoundrel, 1 
never laid eyes on.” 

‘‘ That is just my way of thinking ; and not in the least 
like the family.” 

“ This matter of likenesses is not easily explained, Oakes. 
We see parents and children without any visible resemblance 
to each other ; and then we find startling likenesses between 
utter strangers.” 

“ Bachelor's children may be in that predicament, cer- 
tainly ; but I should think few others. I never yet studied a 
child, that I did not find some resemblance to both parents : 
covert and only transitory, perhaps ; but a likeness so distinct 
as to establish the relationship. What an accursed chance it 
is, that our noble young lieutenant should have no claim on 

this old baronet ; while this d d nullus is both heir at 

law, and heir of entail ! I never took half as much interest 
in any other man’s estate, as I take in the succession to this of 
our poor host !” 

“ There you are mistaken, Oakes ; you took more in mine ; 
for, when I made a will in your own favour, and gave it to 
you to read, you tore it in two, and threw it overboard, with 
your own hand.” 

“ Ay, that was an act of lawful authority. As your supe- 
rior, I countermanded that will ! I hope you’ve made another, 
and given your money, as I told you, to your cousin, the 
Viscount.” 

“ I did, but that will has shared the fate of the first. It 
appearing to me, that we are touching on serious times, and 
Bluewater being rich already, I destroyed the devise in his 
favour, and made a new one, this very morning. As you 
are my executor, as usual, it may be w'ell to let you know it.” 

“ Dick, you have not been mad enough to cut off the head 
of your own family — your own flesh and blood, as it might be 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 219 

— to leave the few thousands you own, to thiw mad adventurer 
in Scotland !” 

Bluewater smiled at this evidence of the familiarity of his 
friend with his own w^ay of thinking and feeling ; and, for a 
single instant, he regretted that he had not put his first inten- 
tion in force, in order that the conformity of views might havo 
been still more perfect ; but, putting a hand in his pocket he 
drew out the document itself, and leaning forward, gave it care- 
lessly to Sir Gervaise. 

“ There is the will ; and by looking it over, you will know 
what I’ve done,” he said. “ I wish you would keep it ; for, 
if ‘misery makes us acquainted with strange bed-fellows,’ 
revolutions reduce us, often, to strange plights, and the paper 
W’ill be safer with you than with me. Of course, you will 
keep my secret, until the proper time to reveal it shall ar- 
rive.” 

The vice-admiral, who knew that he had no direct interest 
in his friend’s disposition of his property, took the will, with a 
good deal of curiosity to ascertain its provisions. So short a 
testament was soon read ; and his eye rested intently on the 
paper until it had taken in the last word. Then his hand 
dropped, and he regarded Bluewater with a surprise he neither 
affected, nor wished to conceal. He did not doubt his friend’s 
sanity, but he greatly questioned his discretion. 

“ This is a very simple, but a very ingenious arrange- 
ment, to disturb the order of society,” he said ; “ and to 
convert a very modest and unpretending, though lovely ^ 
girl, into a forward and airs-taking old woman ! What is 
this Mildred Dutton to you, that you should bequeath to her 
£ 30 , 000 ?” 

“ She is one rf the meekest, most ingenuous, purest, and 
loveliest, of her meek, ingenuous, pure, and lovely sex, crushed 
to the earth by the curse of a brutal, drunken father ; and, T 


220 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


am resolute to see that this world, for once, afford some com- 
pensation for its own miseries.” 

“ Never doubt that, Richard Bluewater ; never doubt that. 
So certain is vice, or crime, to bring its own punishment in this 
life, that one may well question if any other hell is needed. 
And, depend on it, your meek, modest ingenuousness, in its 
turn, will not go unrewarded.” 

“ duite true, so far as the spirit is concerned ; but, I mean 
to provide a little for the comfort of the body. You remember 
Agnes Hed worth, I take it for granted ?” 

“ Remember her ! — out of all question. Had the war left 
me leisure for making love, she was the only woman I ever 
knew, who could have brought me to her feet — I mean as a 
dog, Dick.” 

“Do you see any resemblance between her and this Mil- 
dred Dutton ? It is in the expression rather than in the 
features — ^but, it is the expression which alone denotes the 
character.” * 

“ By George, you’re right, Bluewater ; and this relieves 
me from some embarrassment I’ve felt about that very expres- 
sion of which you speak. She is, like poor Agnes, who became 
a saint earlier than any of us could have wished. Living or 
dead, Agnes Hedworth must be an angel ! You were fonder 
of her, than of any other woman, I believe. At one time, I 
thought you might propose for her hand.” 

“ It was not that sort of affection, and you could not have 
known her private history, or you would not have fancied this. 
I was so situated in the way of relatives, that* Agnes, though 
only the child of a cousin-german, was the nearest youthful 
female relative I had on earth ; and I regarded her more as a 
sister, than as a creature wRo could ever become my wife. 
She was sixteen years my junior; and by the time she had 
become old enough to marry, I was accustomed to think of her 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


221 


only as one destined for another station. The same feeling 
existed as to her sister, the Duchess, though in a greatly less^ 
ened degree.” 

“Poor, sweet Agnes ! — and it is on account of this acci 
dental resemblance, that you have determined to make the 
daughter of a drunken sailing-master your heiress ?” 

“ Not altogether so ; the will was drawn before I was 
conscious that the likeness existed. Still, it has probably, 
unknown to myself, greatly disposed me to view her with 
favour. But, Gervaise, Agnes herself was not fairer in person, 
or more lovely in mind, than this very Mildred Dutton.” 

“ Well, you have not been accustomed to regard her as a 
sister ; and she has become marriageable, without there having 
been any opportunity for your regarding her as so peculiarly 
sacred, Dick I” returned Sit Gervaise, half suppressing a smile 
as he threw a quiet glance at his friend. 

“ You know this to be idle, Oakes. Some one must inherit 
my money ; my brother is long since dead ; even poor, poor 
Agnes is gone ; her sister don’t need it ; Bluewater is an over- 
rich bachelor, already ; you won’t take it, and what better can 
I do with it ? If you could have seen the cruel manner in 
which the spirits of both mother and daughter were crushed 
to the earth last night, by that beast of a husband and father, 
you would have felt a desire to relieve their misery, even 
though it had cost you Bowldero, and half your money in the 
funds.” 

“ Umph ! Bowldero has been in my family five centuries, 
and is likely to remain there. Master Bluewater, five more ; 
unless, indeed, your dashing Pretender should succeed, and take 
it away by confiscation.” 

“ There, again, was another inducement. Should I leave 
my cash to a rich person, and should chance put me on the 
wrong side in this struggle, the king, c/e facto, would get it all ; 

19 * 


222 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


whereas, even a German would not have the heart to rob a 
poor creature like Mildred of her support.” 

“ The Scotch are notorious for bowels, in such matters ! 
Well, have it your own way, Dick. It’s of no great moment 
what you do with your prize-money ; though I had supposed 
it would fall into the hands of this boy, Geoffrey Cleveland, 
who is no discredit to your blood.” 

“ He will have a hundred thousand pounds, at five-and- 
twenty, that were left him by old Lady Greenfield, his great- 
aunt, and that is more than he will know what to do with. 
But, enough of this. Have you received further tidings from 
the north, during the night ?” 

“ Not a syllable. This is a retired part of the country , 
and half Scotland might be capsized in one of its loughs, and 
we not know of it, for a week, tiown here in Devonshire. 
Should I get no intelligence or orders, in the next thirty-six 
hours, I think of posting up to London, leaving you in com- 
mand of the fleet.” 

“ That may not be wise. You would scarcely confide so 
important a trust, in such a crisis, to a man of my political 
feelings — I will not say opinions; since you attribute all to 
sentiment.” 

“ I would confide my life and honour to you, Richard 
Bluewater, with the utmost confidence in the security of both, 
so long as it depended on your own acts or inclinations. We 
must first see, however, what news the Active brings us ; for, 
if de Vervillin is really out, I shall assume that the duty of an 
English sailor is to heat a Frenchman, before all other con- 
siderations.” 

“ If he m?^,” drily observed the other, raising his right 
leg so high as to place the foot on the top of an old-fashioned 
chair ; an effort that nearly brought his back in a horizontal 
line. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


223 


“ I am far from regarding it as a matter of course, Admi- 
ral Bluewater ; but, it has been done sufficiently often, to ren- 
der it an event of no very violent •possibility. Ah, here is 
Magrath to tell us the condition of his patient.” 

The surgeon of the Plantagenet entering the room, at that 
moment, the conversation was instantly changed. 

“ Well, Magrath,” said Sir Gervaise, stopping suddenly in 
his quarter-deck pace ; “ what news of the poor man ?” 

“ He is reviving, Admiral Oakes,” returned the phlegmatic 
surgeon ; “ but it is like the gleaming of sunshine that streams 
through clouds, as the great luminary sets behind the 
hills—” 

“ Oh ! hang your poetry, doctor ; let us have nothing but 
plain matter-of-fact, this morning.” 

“ Well, then. Sir Gervaise, as commander-in-chief, you’ll be 
obeyed, I think. Sir Wycherly Wychecombe is suffering under 
an attack of apoplexy — or a‘7ro‘:rXy)|»^, as the Greeks had it. 
The diagnosis of the disease is not easily mistaken, though it 
has its affinities as well as other maladies. The applications 
for gout, or arthritis — sometimes produce apoplexy ; though 
one disease is seated in the head, while the other usually takes 
refuge in the feet. Ye’ll understand this the more readily, 
gentlemen, when ye reflect that as a thief is chased from one 
hiding-place, he commonly endeavours to get into another. I 
much misgive the prudence of the phlebotomy ye practised 
among ye, on the first summons to the patient.” 

“ What the d — 1 does the man mean by phlebotomy ?” ex- 
claimed Sir Gervaise, who had an aversion to medicine, and 
knew scarcely any of the commonest terms of practice, though 
expert in bleeding. 

“ I’m thinking it’s what you and Admiral Bluewater so 
freely administer to His Majesty’s enemies, whenever ye fall in 
with ’em at sea ; — he-he-he — ” answered Magrath, chuckling 


224 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


at his own humour ; which, as the quantity was small, was 
all the better in quality. 

“ Surely he does not mean powder and shot I We give the 
French shot ; Sir Wycherley has not been shot V* 

“ Varra true, Sir Gervaise, but ye’ve let him blood, amang 
ye : a measure that has been somewhat preceepitately prac- 
tised, I’ve my misgivings !” 

“ Now, any old woman can tell us better than that, doc- 
tor. Blood-letting is the every-day remedy for attacks of this 
sort.” 

“ I do not dispute the dogmas of elderly persons of the 
other sex. Sir Gervaise, or your every-day remedia. If ‘ every- 
day’ doctors would save life and alleviate pain, diplomas 
would be unnecessary ; and we might, all of us, practise on 
the principle of the ‘ de’el tak’ the hindmaist,’ as ye did 
yoursel’, Sir Gervaise, when ye cut and slash’d amang 
the Dons, in boarding El Lirio. I was there, ye’ll both 
remember, gentlemen ; and was obleeged to sew up the 
gashes ye made with your own irreverent and ungodly 
hands.” 

‘ This speech referred to one of the most desperate, hand-to- 
hand struggles, in which the tw^o flag-officers had ever been 
engaged ; and, as it afibrded them the means of exhibiting 
their personal gallantry, when quite young men, both usually 
looked back upon the exploit with great self-complacency ; Sir 
Gervaise, in particular, his friend having ‘often declared since, 
that they ought to have been laid on the shelf for life, as a 
punishment for risking their men in so mad an enterprise, 
though it did prove to be brilliantly successful. 

“ That was an affair in which one might engage at twenty- 
two, Magrath,” observed Bluewater ; “but which he ought to 
hesitate about thinking of eveii;,. after thirty.” 

“ I’d do it again, this blessed day, if you would give us a 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


225 


chance !” exclaimed Sir Gervaise, striking the hack of one hand 
into the palm of the other, with a sudden energy, that showed 
how much he was excited by the mere recollection of the 
scene. 

“ That w’ud ye ! — that w’ud ye !” said Magrath, growing 
more and more Scotch, as he warmed in the discourse ; “ ye’d 
board a mackerel-hoy, rather than not have an engage- 
ment. Ye’r a varra capital vice-admiral of the red, Sir Ger- 
vaise, but I’m judging ye’d mak’ a varra indeeferent loblolly- 
boy.” 

“ Bluewater, I shall be compelled to change ships with you, 
in order to get rid of the old stand-by’s of the Plantagenets ! 
They stick to me like leeches ; and have got to be so familiar, 
that they criticise all my orders, and don’t more than half 
obey them, in the bargain.” 

“ No one will criticise your nautical commands. Sir Ger- 
vaise ; though, in the way of the healing airt, — science, it 
should he called — ye’re no mair to be trusted, than one of the 
young gentlemen. I’m told ye drew ye’r lancet on this poor 
gentleman, as ye’d draw ye’r sword on an enemy !” 

“ I did, indeed, sir ; though Mr. Rotherham had rendered 
the application of the instrument unnecessary. Apoplexy is 
a rushing of the blood to the head ; and by diminishing the 
quantity in the veins of the arms or temples, you lessen the 
pressure on the brain.” 

“ Just layman’s practice, sir — just layman’s practice. Will 
ye tell me now if the patient’s face was red or white ? Every 
thing depends on that ; which is the true diagnosis of the 
malady.” 

“ Red, I think ; was it not, Bluew^ater ? Red, like old 
port, of which I fancy the poor man had more than his share.” 

“ Weel, in that case, you were not so varra wrong ; but, 
they tell me his countenance was pallid and death-like ; in 


226 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


which case ye came near to committing murder. There is 
one principle that controls the diagnosis of all cases of apoplexy 
among ye’r true country gentlemen — and that is, that the 
system is reduced and enfeebled, by habitual devotion to the 
decanter. In such attacks ye canna’ do warse, than to let 
blood. But, I’ll no be hard upon you. Sir Gervaise ; and so 
we’ll drop the subject — though, truth to say, I do not admire 
your poaching on my manor. Sir Wycnerly is materially better, 
and expresses, as well as a man who has not the use of his 
tongue, can express a thing, his besetting desire to make his 
^ast will and testament. In ordinary cases of apoplexia, it is 
good practice to oppose this craving ; though, as it is my firm 
opinion that nothing can save the patient’s life, I do not set 
myself against the measure, in this particular case. Thar’ 
was a curious discussion at Edinbro’, in my youth, gentlemen, 
on the question whether the considerations connected with the 
disposition of the property, or the considerations connected with 
the patient’s health, ought to preponderate in the physician’s 
mind, when it might be reasonably doubted whether the act of 
making a will, would or would not essentially affect the ner- 
vous system, and otherwise derange the functions of the body. 
A very pretty argument, in excellent Edinbro’ Latin, was made 
on each side of the question. I think, on the whole, the 
physicos had the best o’ it ; for they could show a plausible 
present evil, as opposed to a possible remote good.” 

“ Has Sir Wycherly mentioned my name this morning ?” 
asked the vice-admiral, with interest. 

“ He has, indeed. Sir Gervaise ; and that in a way so 
manifestly connected with his will, that I’m opining ye’ll no be 
forgotten in the legacies. The name of Bluewater was in his 
mouth, also.” 

“ In which case no time should be lost ; for, never before 
have I felt half the interest in the disposition of a stranger’s 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


227 


estate. Hark ! Are not those wheels rattling in the court- 
yard?” 

“ Ye’r senses are most pairfect, Sir Gervaise, and that I’ve 
always said was one reason why ye’r so great an admiral,” 
returned Magrath. “ Mind, only one^ Sir Gervaise ; for many 
qualities united, are necessary to make a truly great man. I 
see a middle-aged gentleman alighting, and servants around 
him, who wear the same liveries as those of this house. Some 
relative, no doubt, come to look after the legacies, also.” 

“ This must he Sir Reginald Wychecomhe ; it may not be 
amiss if we go forward to receive him. Blue water.’* 

At this suggestion, the rear-admiral drew in his legs, which 
had not changed their position on account of the presence of 
the surgeon, arose, and followed Sir Gervaise, as the latter left 
the room. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


^ Videsne quis venit ?” 

“ Video, et gaudeo.’’* 

J^athaniel et Holof ernes. 


Tom Wychecombe had experienced an uneasiness that it is 
unnecessary to explain, ever since he learned that his reputed 
uncle had sent a messenger to bring the “ half-blood” to the 
Hall. From the moment he got a clue to the fact, he took 
sufficient pains to ascertain what was in the wind ; and when 
Sir Reginald Wychecombe entered the house, the first person 
he met was this spurious supporter of the honours of his name. 

“ Sir Reginald Wychecombe, I presume, from the anus and 
the liveries,” said Tom, endeavouring to assume the manner 
of a host. “It is grateful to find that, though we are sep- 
arated by quite two centuries, all the usages and the bearings 
of the family are equally preserved and respected, by both its 
branches.” 

“ I am Sir Reginald Wychecombe, sir, and endeavour not 
to forget the honourable ancestry from which I am derived. 
May I ask what kinsman I have the pleasure now to meet ?” 

“ Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, sir, at your command ; the 
eldest son of Sir Wycherly’s next brother, the late Mr. Baron 
Wychecombe. I trust. Sir Reginald, you have not considered 
us as so far removed in blood, as to have entirely overlooked 
our births, marriages, and deaths.” 

“ I have not, sir,” returned the baronet, drily, and with 
an emphasis that disturbed his listener, though the cold, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


229 


Jesuitical smile that accompanied the words, had the effect 
to calm his vivid apprehensions. “ All that relates to the 
house of Wychecombe has interest in my eyes ; and I have 
endeavoured, successfully I trust, to ascertain all that relates to 
its births, marriages^ and deaths. I greatly regret that the 
second time I enter this venerable dwelling, should be on an oc- 
casion as melancholy as this, on which I am now summoned. 
How is your respectable — how is Sir Wycherly Wychecornbe, 
I wish to say ?” 

There w^as sufficient in this answer, taken in connection 
with the deliberate, guarded, and yet expressive manner of the 
speaker to make Tom extremely uncomfortable, though there 
was also sufficient to leave him in doubts as to his namesake’s 
true meaning. The words emphasized by the latter, were 
touched lightly, though distinctly ; and the cold, artificial smile 
with which they were uttered, completely baffled the sagacity 
of a rogue, as common-place as the heir-expectant. Then the 
sudden change in the construction of the last sentence, and the 
substitution of the name of the person mentioned, for the degree 
of affinity in which he was supposed to stand to Tom, might 
be merely a rigid observance of the best tone of society, or it 
might be equivocal. All these little distinctions gleamed across 
the mind of Tom Wychecornbe ; but that was not the mo- 
ment to pursue the investigation. Courtesy required that he 
should make an immediate answer, which he succeeded in 
doing steadily enough as to general appearances, though his 
sagacious and practised questioner perceived that his words had 
not failed of producing the impression he intended*; for he had 
looked to their establishing a species of authority over the 
young man. 

“My honoured and beloved uncle has revived a little, they 
tell me,” said Tom ; “ but I fear these appearances are de- 
lusive. After eighty-four, death has a fearful hold upon us* 

20 


230 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


sir ! The worst of it is, that my poor, dear uncle’s mind is 
sensibly affected ; and it is quite impossible to get at any of 
his little wishes, in the way of memorials and messages — ” 

“ How then, sir, came Sir Wycherly to honour me with a 
request to visit him ?” demanded the other, with an extremely 
awkward pertinency. 

“ I suppose, sir, he has succeeded in muttering your name, 
and that a natural construction has been put on its use, at such 
a moment. His will has been made some time, I understand ; 
though I am ignorant of even the name of the executor, as it 
is closed in an envelope, and sealed with Sir Wycherly’s arms. 
It cannot be, then, on account of a will, that he has wished to 
see you. I rather think, as the next of the family, out of the 
direct line of sitccession, he may have ventured to name you 
as the executor of the will in existence, and has thought it 
proper to notify you of the same.” 

“ Yes, sir,” returned Sir Reginald, in his usual cold, wary 
manner ; “ though it would have been more in conformity 
with usage, had the notification taken the form of a request to 
serve, previously to making the testament. My letter was 
signed ‘ Gervaise Oakes,’ and, as they tell me a fleet is in the 
neighbourhood, I have supposed that the celebrated admiral of 
that name, has done me the honour to write it.” 

“ You are not mistaken, sir ; Sir Gervaise Oakes is in the 
house — ah — here he comes to receive you, accompanied by 
Rear-Admiral Bluewater, whom the sailors call his main- 
mast.” 

The foregoing conversation had taken place in a little 
parlour that led off from the great hall, whither Tom had 
conducted his guest, and in which the two admirals now made 
their appearance. Introductions were scarcely necessary, the 
uniform and star — for in that age officers usually appeared in 
their robes — the uniform and star of Sir Gervaise at once pro* 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


231 


claiming his rank and name ; while, between Sir Reginald 
and Bluewater there existed a slight personal acquaintance, 
which had grown out of their covert, but deep, Jacobite sym- 
pathies. 

“ Sir Gervaise Oakes,” and “ Sir Reginald Wychecombe,” 
passed between the gentlemen, with a hearty shake of the hand 
from the admiral, which was met by a cold touch of the fingers 
on the part of the other, that might very well have passed for 
the great model of the sophisticated manipulation of the mod- 
ern salute, hut which, in fact, was the result of temperament 
rather than of fashion. As soon as this ceremony was gone 
through, and a few brief expressions of courtesy were ex- 
changed, the new comer turned to Bluewater, with an air of 
greater freedom, and continued — 

“ And you, too. Sir Richard Bluewater ! I rejoice to meet 
an acquaintance in this melancholy scene.” 

“ I am happy to see you. Sir Reginald ; though you have 
conferred on me a title to which I have no proper claim.” 

“ No ! — the papers tell us that you have received one of the 
lately vacant red ribands ?” 

“ I believe some such honour has been in contemplation — ” 

“ Contemplation ! — I do assure you, sir, your name is fairly 
and distinctly gazetted — as, by sending to my carriage, it will 
he in my power to show you. I am, then, the first to call you 
Sir Richard.” 

“Excuse me. Sir Reginald — there is some little misappre- 
hension in this matter ; I prefer to remain plain Rear-Admiral 
Bluewater. In due season, all will be explained.” 

The parties exchanged looks, which, in times like those in 
which they lived, were sufficiently intelligible to both ; and the 
conversation was instantly changed. Before Sir Reginald re- 
linquished the hand he held, however, he gave it a cordial 
squeeze, an intimation that was returned by a warm pressure 


232 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


from Bluewater. The party then began to converse of Sir 
Wycherly, his actual condition, and his probable motive in de- 
siring to see his distant kinsman. This motive, Sir Gervaise, 
regardless of the presence of Tom Wychecombe, declared to be 
a wish to make a will ; and, as he believed, the intention of 
naming Sir Reginald his executor, if not in some still more in- 
teresting capacity. 

“ I understand Sir Wycherly has a considerable sum entirely 
at his own disposal,” continued the vice-admiral ; “ and I con- 
fess I like to see a man remember his friends and servants, 
generously, in his last moments. The estate is entailed, I 
hear; and I suppose Mr. Thomas Wychecombe here, will be 
none the worse for that precaution in his ancestor ; let the old 
gentleman do as he pleases with his savings.” 

Sir Gervaise was so much accustomed to command, that he 
did not feel the singularity of his own interference in the affairs 
of a family of what might be called strangers, though the cir- 
cumstance struck Sir Reginald, as a little odd. Nevertheless, 
the last had sufficient penetration to understand the vice- 
admiral’s character at a glance, and the peculiarity made no 
lasting impression. - When the allusion was made to Tom’s 
succession, as a matter of course, however, he cast a cold, but 
withering loolc, at the reputed heir, which almost chilled the 
marrow in the bones of the jealous rogue. 

“ Might I say a word to you, in your own room. Sir Ger- 
vaise ?” asked Sir Reginald, in an aside. “ These matters 
ought not to be indecently hurried ; and I wish to understand 
the ground better, before I advance.” 

This question was overheard by Bluew'^ater ; who, begging 
the gentlemen to remain where they were, withdrew himself, 
taking Tom Wychecombe Avith him. As soon as they were 
alone. Sir Reginald drew from his companion, by questions 
warily but ingeniously put, a history of all that had occurred 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


233 


within the last twenty-four hours ; a knowledge of the really 
helpless state of Sir Wycherly, and of the manner in which he 
himself had been summoned, included. When satisfied, he 
expressed a desire to see the sick man. 

“ By the way. Sir Reginald,” said the vice-admiral, with 
his hand on the lock of the door, arresting his own movement 
to put the question ; “ I see, by your manner of expressing 
yourself, that the law has not been entirely overlooked in your 
education. Do you happen to know what ‘ half-blood’ means ? 
it is either a medical or a legal term, and I understand few hut 
nautical.” 

“ You could not apply to any man in England, Sir Ger- 
vaise, better qualified to tell you,” answered the Hertfordshire 
baronet, smiling expressively. “ I am a barrister of the Middle 
Temple, having been educated as a younger son, and having 
since succeeded an elder brother, at the age of twenty-seven ; 
I stand in the unfortunate relation of the ‘ half-blood’ myself, 
to this very estate, on which we are now conversing.” 

Sir Reginald then proceeded to explain the law to the other, 
as we have already pointed it out to the reader ; performing 
the duty succinctly, hut quite clearly. 

“ Bless me ! — bless me ! Sir Reginald,” exclaimed the 
direct-minded and ^ws^minded sailor — “ here must he some 
mistake ! A fortieth cousin, or the king, take this estate before 
yourself, though you are directly descended from all the old 
Wychecombes of the times of the Plantagenets !” 

“ Such is the common law. Sir Gervaise. Were I Sir 
Wycherly’s half-brother, or a son by a second wife of our 
common father, I could not take from him, although that 
common father had earned the estate by his own hands, or 
services.” 

“ This is damnable, sir — damnable — and you’ll pardon me, 
but I can hardly believe we have such a monstrous principle 

20 » 


234 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


in the good, honest, well-meaning laws, of good, honest, well 
meaning old England !” 

Sir Reginald was one of the few lawyers of his time, who 
did not recognize the virtue of this particular provision of the 
common law ; a circumstance that probably arose from his 
having so s>mall an interest now in the mysteries of the pro- 
fession, and so large an interest in the family estate of Wyche- 
combe, destroyed by its dictum. He was, consequently, less 
surprised, and not at all hurt, at the evident manner in which 
the sailor repudiated his statement, as doing violence equally 
to reason, justice, and probability. 

“ Good, honest, well-meaning old England tolerates many 
grievous things, notwithstanding. Sir Gervaise,” he answered; 
“ among others, it tolerates the law of the half-blood. Much 
depends on the manner in which men view these things ; that 
which seems gold to one, resembling silver in the eyes of 
another. Now, I dare say,” — this was said as a feeler, and 
with a smile that might pass for ironical or confiding, as the 
listener pleased to take it — “ Now, I dare say, the clans would 
tell us that England tolerates an usurper, while her lawful 
prince was in banishment ; though you and I might not feel 
disposed to allow it.” 

Sir Gervaise started, and cast a quick, suspicious glance at 
the speaker ; but there the latter stood, with as open and guile- 
less an expression on his handsome features, as was ever seen 
in the countenance of confiding sixteen. 

Your supposititious case is no parallel,” returned the vice- 
admiral, losing every shade of suspicion, at this appearance of 
careless frankness ; “ since men often follow their feelings in 
their allegiance, while the law is supposed to be governed 
by reason and justice. But, now we are on the subject, will 
you tell me. Sir Reginald, if you also know what a nulUii 
?” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


235 


“ I have no farther knowledge of the subject, Sir Gervaise, ” 
returned the other, smiling, this time, quite naturally ; “ than 
is to be found in the Latin dictionaries and grammars.” 

” Ay — you mean nullus, nulla, nullum. Even we sailors 
know that ; as we all go to school before we go to sea. But, 
Sir Wycherly, in efforts to make himself understood, called you 
a ‘ half-blood.’ ” 

“ And quite correctly — I admit such to be the fact ; and 
that I have no more legal claim, whatever on this estate, than 
you have yourself. My moral right, however, may be some- 
what better.” 

“ It is much to your credit, that you so frankly admit it. 
Sir Keginald ; for, hang me, if I think even the judges would 
dream of raising such an objection to your succeeding, unless 
reminded of it.” 

“ Therein you do them injustice, Sir Gervaise ; as it is their 
duty to administer the laws, let them be what they may.” 

“ Perhaps you are right, sir. But the reason for my asking 
what a nullus is, was the circumstance that Sir Wycherly, in 
the course of his efforts to speak, repeatedly called his nephew 
and heir, Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, by that epithet.” 

“ Did he, indeed ? — Was the epithet, as you well term it, 
jilius nullius ?” 

“ I rather think it was nullus — though I do believe the 
word jUius was muttered, once or twice, also.” 

“ Yes, sir, this has been the case ; and I am not sorry Sir 
Wycherly is aware of the fact, as I hear that the young man 
affects to consider himself in a different point of view. A 
filius nullius is the legal term for a bastard — ^the ‘ son of no- 
body,’ as you will at once understand. I am fully aware that 
such is the unfortunate predicament of Mr. Thomas Wyche- 
combe, whose lather, I possess complete evidence to show, was 
never married to his mother.” 


236 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ And yet, Sir Reginald, the impudent rascal carries in his 
pocket even, a certifieate, signed by some parish priest in 
London, to prove the contrary. 

The civil baronet seemed surprised at this assertion of his 
military brother ; but Sir Gervaise explaining what had passed 
between himself and the young man, he could no longer 
entertain any doubt of the fact. 

“ Since you have seen the document,” resumed Sir Regi- 
nald, “ it must, indeed, be so ; and this misguided boy is 
prepared to take any desperate step in order to obtain the title 
and the estate. All that he has said about a will must be 
fabulous, as no man in his senses would risk his neck to obtain 
so hollow a distinction as a baronetcy — we are equally mem- 
bers of the class, and may speak frankly, Sir Gervaise — and 
the will would secure the estate, if there were one. I cannot 
think, therefore, that there is a will at all.” 

“ If this will were not altogether to the fellow’s liking, 
would not the marriage, beside the hollow honour of which 
you have spoken, put the whole of the landed property in his 
possession, under the entail ?” 

“ It would, indeed ; and I thank you for the suggestion. 
If, however. Sir Wycherly is desirous, now^ of making a new 
will, and has strength and mind sufficient to execute his pur- 
pose, the old one need give us no concern. This is a most 
delicate affair for* one in my situation to engage in, sir ; and I 
greatly rejoice that I find such honourable and distinguished 
witnesses, in the house, to clear my reputation, should any 
thing occur to require such exculpation. On the one side. Sir 
Gervaise, there is the danger of an ancient estate’s falling into 
the hands of the crown, and this, too, while one of no stain 
of blood, derived from the same honourable ancestors as the 
last possessor, is in existence ; or, on the other, of its becoming 
the prey of one of base blood, and of but very doubtful 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


237 


character. The circumstance that Sir Wycherly desired my 
presence, is a great deal ; and I trust to you, and to those 
with you, to vindicate the fairness of my course. If it’s your 
pleasure, sir, we will now go to the sick chamber.” 

“ With all my heart. I think, however. Sir Reginald,” 
said -the vice-ad nairal, as he approached the door ; “that even 
in the event of an escheat, you would find these Brunswick 
princes sufficiently liberal to restore the property. I could not 
answer for those wandering Scotchmen ; who have so many 
breechless nobles to enrich ; but, I think, with the Hanoverians, 
you would be safe.” 

“ The last have certainly one recommendation the most,” 
returned the other, smiling courteously, but in a way so equi- 
vocal that even Sir Gervaise was momentarily struck by it ; 
“ they have fed so well, now, at the crib, that they may not 
have the same voracity, as those who have been long fasting. 
It would be, however, more pleasant to take these lands from 
a Wychecombe — a Wychecombe to a Wychecombe — than to 
receive them anew from even the Plantagenet who made the 
first grant.” 

This terminated the private dialogue, as the colloquists en- 
tered the hall, just as the last speaker concluded. Wycherly 
was conversing, earnestly, with Mrs. Dutton and Mildred, at 
the far end of the hall, when the baronets appeared ; but, 
catching the eye of the admiral, he said a few words hastily to 
his companions, and joined the two gentlemen, who were now 
on their way to the sick man’s chamber. 

“ Here is a namesake, if not a relative. Sir Reginald,” ob- 
served Sir Gervaise, introducing the lieutenant ; “ and one, I 
rejoice to say, of whom all of even your honourable name have 
reason to be proud.” 

Sir Reginald’s bow was courteous and bland, as the admiral 
proceeded to complete the introduction ; but Wycherly felt 


238 


T II E TWO ADMIRALS. 


that the keen, searching look he bestowed on himself, was dis- 
agreeable. 

“ 1 am not at all aware, that I have the smallest claim to 
the honour of being Sir Reginald Wychecombe’s relative,” he 
said, with cold reserve. “ Indeed, until last evening, I was 
ignorant of the existence of the Hertfordshire branch of this 
family; and you will remember. Sir G-ervaise, that I am a 
Virginian.” 

“ A Virginian I” exclaimed his namesake, taken so much 
by surprise as to lose a little of his self-command, “ I did not 
know, indeed, that any who bear the name had found their 
way to the colonies.” 

“ And if they had, sir, they would have met with a set of 
fellows every M^ay fit to be their associates. Sir Reginald. We 
English are a little clannish — I hate the word, too ; it has such 
a narrow Scotch sound — but we are clannish, although gener- 
ally provided with garments to our nether limbs ; and we 
sometimes look down upon even a son, whom the love of ad- 
venture has led into that part of the world. In my view an 
Englishman is an Englishman, let him come from what part 
of the empire he may. That is what I call genuine liberality, 
Sir Reginald.” 

“ duite true. Sir Gervaise ; and a Scotchman is a Scotch- 
man, even though he come from the north of Tweed.” 

This was quietly said, but the vice-admiral felt the merited 
rebuke it contained, and he had the good-nature and the good 
sense to laugh at it, and to admit his own prejudices. This little 
encounter brought the party to Sir Wycherly’s door, where all 
three remained until it was ascertained that they might enter. 

The next quarter of an hour brought about a great change 
in the situation of all the principal inmates of Wychecombe 
Hall. The interdict was taken off the rooms of Sir Wycherly, 
and in them had collected all the gentlemen, Mrs. Dutton and 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


2:30 


her daughter, with three or four of the upper servants of the 
establishment. Even Galleygo contrived to thrust his ungainly 
person in, among the rest, though he had the discretion 
to keep in the background among his fellows. In a word, 
both dressing-room and bed-room had their occupants, though 
the last was principally filled by the medical men, and those 
whose rank gave them claims to be near the person of the 
sick. 

It was now past a question known that poor Sir Wycherly 
was on his death-bed. His mind had sensibly improved, nor 
was his speech any worse ; but his physical system generally 
had received a shock that rendered recovery hopeless. It was 
the opinion of the physicians that he might possibly survive 
several days ; or, that he might be carried off, in a moment, by 
a return of the paralytic affection. 

The baronet, himself, appeared to be perfectly conscious of 
his situation ; as was apparent by the anxiety he expressed to 
get his friends together, and more especially the concern he felt 
to make a due disposition of his worldly affairs. The medical 
men had long resisted both wishes, until, convinced that the 
question was reduced to one of a few hours more or less of life, 
and that denial was likely to produce worse effects than com- 
pliance, they finally and unanimously consented. 

“ It’s no a great concession to mortal infirmity to let a dying 
man have his way,” whispered Magrath to the two admirals, 
as the latter entered the room. “ Sir Wycherly is a hopeless 
case, and we’ll just consent to let him make a few codicils, 
seeing that he so fairvently desires it ; and then there may be 
fewer hopeless deevils left behind him, when he’s gathered to 
his forefathers.” 

“ Here we are, my dear Sir Wycherly,” said the vice- 
admiral, who never lost an occasion to effect his purpose, by 
any unnecessary delay ; “ here we all are anxious to comply 


240 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


with your wishes. Your kinsman, Sir Reginald Wychecombe, 
is also present, and desirous of doing your pleasure.” 

It was a painful sight to see a man on his death-bed, so 
anxious to discharge the forms of the world, as the master of 
the Hall now appeared to be. There had been an unnecessary 
alienation between the heads of the two branches of the fami- 
ly ; not arising from any quarrel, or positive cause of disagree- 
ment, but from a silent conviction in both parties, that each 
was unsuited to the other. They had met a few times, and 
always parted without regret. The case was now different ; 
the separation was, in one sense at least, to be eternal ; and 
all minor considerations, all caprices of habits or despotism of 
tastes, faded before the solemn impressions of the moment. 
Still, Sir Wycherly could not forget that he was master of 
Wychecombe, and that his namesake was esteemed a man of 
refinement ; and, in his simple way of thinking he would fain 
have arisen, in order to do him honour. A little gentle vio- 
lence, even, was necessary to keep the patient quiet. 

“Much honoured, sir — greatly pleased,” muttered Sir 
Wycherly, the words coming from him with diflficulty. “ Same 
ancestors — same name — Plantagenets — old house, sir — head 
go, new one come — none better, than — ” 

“ Do not distress yourself to speak, unnecessarily, my dear 
sir,” interrupted Sir Reginald, with more tenderness for the 
patient than consideration for his own interest, as the next 
w^ords promised to relate to the succession. “ Sir Gervaise 
Oakes tells me, he understands your wishes, generally, and that 
he is now prepared to gratify them. First relieve your mind, 
in matters of business ; and, then, I shall be most happy to ex- 
change with you the feelings of kindred.” 

“ Yes, Sir Wycherly,” put in Sir Gervaise, on this hint ; “ I 
believe I have now found the clue to all you wish to say. The 
few words written by you, last night, were the commencement 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


241 


of a will, which it is your strong desire to make. Do not 
speak, but raise your right hand, if I am not mistaken.” 

The sick man actually stretched his right arm above tho 
bed-clothes, and his dull eyes lighted with an expression of 
pleasure, that proved how strongly his feelings were enlisted in 
the result. 

“ You see, gentlemen !” said Sir Gervaise, with emphasis. 
“ No one can mistake the meaning of this ! Come nearer, 
doctor — Mr. Rotherham — all who have no probable interest in 
the affair — I wish it to be seen that Sir Wycherly Wychecombe 
is desirous of making his will.” 

The vice-admiral now went through the ceremony of re- 
peating his request, and got the same significant answer. 

“ So I understood it. Sir Wycherly, and I believe now I 
also understand all about the ‘ half,’ and the * whole,’ and the 
* nullus' You meant to tell us that your kinsman. Sir Regi- 
nald Wychecombe, was of the ‘ half-blood’ as respects yourself, 
and that Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, your nephew, is what is 
termed in law — however painful this may be, gentlemen, at 
such solemn moments the truth must be plainly spoken — that 
Mr. Thomas Wychecombe is what the law terms a ^Jilius nul- 
lius' If we have understood you in this, also, have the good- 
ness to give this company the same sign of assent.” 

The last words were scarcely spoken, before Sir Wycherly 
again raised his arm, and nodded his head. 

“ Here there can be no mistake, and no one rejoices in it 
more than I do myself; for, the unintelligible words gave me 
a great deal of vexation. Well, my dear sir, understanding 
your wishes, my secretary, Mr. Atwood, has drawn the com- 
mencement of a will, in the usual form, using your own pious 
and proper language of — ‘ In the name of God, Amen,’ as the 
commencement ; and he stands ready to write down your be- 
quests, as you may see fit to name them. We will take them, 

2J 


242 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


first, on a separate piece of paper ; then read them to you, foi 
your approbation ; and afterwards, transcribe them into the 
will. I believe. Sir Reginald, that mode would withstand the 
subtleties of all the gentlemen of all the Inns of Court ?” 

“It is a very proper and prudent mode for executing a 
will, sir, under the peculiar circumstances,” returned he of 
Hertfordshire. “ But, Sir Gervaise, my situation, here, is a 
little delicate, as may be that of Mr. Thomas Wychecombe-— 
others of the name and family, if any such there be. Would it 
not be well to inquire if our presence is actually desired by the 
intended testator ?” 

“ Is it your wish, Sir Wycherly, that your kinsmen and 
namesakes remain in the room, or shall they retire until the 
will is executed ? I will call over the names of the company, 
and when you wish any one, in particular, to stay in the room, 
you will nod your head.” 

“ All — all stay,” muttered Sir Wycherly ; “Sir Reginald 
— Tom — Wycherly — all — ” 

“ This seems explicit enough, gentlemen,” resumed the 
vice-admiral. “ You are all requested to stay ; and, if I might 
venture an opinion, our poor friend has named those on whom 
he intends his bequests to fall — and pretty much, too, in the 
order in which they will come.” 

“ That will appear more unanswerably when Sir Wycherly 
has expressed his intentions in words,” observed Sir Reginald, 
very desirous that there should not be the smallest appearance 
of dictation or persuasion offered to his kinsman, at a moment 
60 grave. “ Let me entreat that no leading questions be 
put.” 

“ Sir Gervaise understands leading in battle, much better 
than in a cross-examination. Sir Reginald,” Blue water ob- 
served, in a tone so low, that none heard him but the person to 
whom the words were addressed. “ I think we shall sooner 


THE TWO ADMIRALS 


243 


get at Sir Wycherly’s wishes, by allowing him to take his cwn 
course.” 

The other bowed, and appeared disposed to acquiesce. In 
the mean time preparations were making for the construction 
of the will. Atwood seated himself at a table near the bed, 
and commenced nibbing his pens ; the medical men adminis- 
tered a cordial ; Sir Gervaise caused all the witnesses to range 
themselves around the room, in a way that each might fairly 
see, and be seen ; taking care, however, so to dispose of Wych- 
erly, as to leave no doubt of his handsome person’s coming into 
the sick man’s view. The lieutenant’s modesty might have 
rebelled at this arrangement, had he not found himself imme- 
diately at the side of Mildred. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


“Yet, all is o’er!— fear, doubt, suspense, are fled, 

Let brighter thoughts be with the virtuous dead! 

The final ordeal of the soul is past. 

And the pale brow is sealed to Heaven at last.” 

Mrs. Hemanu. 

It will be easily supposed that Tom Wychecombe wit- 
nessed the proceedings related in the preceding chapter with 
dismay. The circumstance that he actually possessed a hona 
fide will of his uncle, which left him heir of all the latter 
owned, real or personal, had made him audacious, and first in- • 
duced him to take the bold stand of asserting his legitimacy, 
and of claiming all its consequences. He had fully determined 
to assume the title on the demise of Sir Wycherly ; plausibly 
enough supposing that, as there was no heir to the baronetcy, 
the lands once in his quiet possession, no one would take suffi- 
cient interest in the matter to dispute his right to the rank. 
Here, how^ever, was a blow that menaced death to all his 
hopes. His illegitimacy seemed to be known to others, and 
there was every prospect of a new will’s supplanting the old 
one, in its more important provisions, at least. He was at a 
loss to imagine wffiat had made this sudden change in his un- 
cle’s intentions ; for he did not sufficiently understand himself, 
to perceive that the few months of close communion which had 
succeeded the death of his reputed father, had sufficed to en- 
lighten Sir Wycherly on the subject of his own true character, 
and to awaken a disgust that had remained passive, until sud- 
denly aroused by the necessity of acting ; and, least of all, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


245 


could he understand how surprisingly the moral vision of men 
is purifiei and enlarged, as respects both the past and the fu- 
ture, by the near approach of death Although symptoms of 
strong dissatisfaction escaped him, he quieted his feelings as 
much as possible, cautiously waiting for any occurrence that 
might be used in setting aside the contemplated instrument, 
hereafter ; or, what would be still better, to defeat its execu- 
tion, now. 

As soon as the necessary preparations w'ere made, Atwood, 
his pen nibbed, ink at hand, and paper spread, was ready to 
proceed : and a breathless stillness existing in the chamber. 
Sir Gervaise resumed the subject on which they were con- 
vened. 

“ Atwood will read to you what he has already written, 
Sir Wycherly,” he said ; “ should the phraseology be agreea- 
ble to you, you will have the goodness to make a sign to that 
effect. Well, if all is ready, you can now commence — hey ! 
Atwood ?’*’ 

“ ‘ In the name of God, Amen,’ ” commenced the methodical 
secretary ; “ ‘ I, Wycherly Wychecombe, Bart., of Wychecombe- 
Hall, in t’ e county of Devon, being of sound mind, but of a 
feeble sta 3 of health, and having the view of death before my 
eyes, revoking all other wills, codicils, or testamentary devises, 
whatsoever, do make and declare this instrument to be my last 
will and testament : that is to say. Imprimis, I do hereby consti- 
tute and appoint of , the executor of this my 

said will, with all the powers and authority that the law gives, 
or may hereafter give to said executor. Secondly, I give and 

bequeath to .’ This is all that is yet written. Sir Gervaise, 

blanks being left for the name or names of the executor or ex- 
ecutors, as well for the ‘ s’ at the <md of ‘ executor,’ should the 
testator see fit to name more than one.” 

“ There, Sir Reginald,” said the vice-admiral, not alto- 
21* 


246 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


gether without exultation ; “ this is the way we prepare these 
things on hoard a man-of-war ! A flag-officer’s secretary needs 
have himself qualified to do any thing, short of a knowledge of 
administering to the cure of souls I” 

“ And the cure of bodies, ye’ll he permitting me to add, 
Sir G ervaise,” observed Magrath, taking an enormous pinch of 
a strong yellow snuff. 

“ Our secretary would make but a lubberly fist at turning 
off a delicate turtle-soup out of pig’s-head ; such as we puts on 
our table at sea, so often,” muttered Galleygo in the ear of 
Mrs. Larder. 

“ I see nothing to object to, Sir Gervaise, if the language 
is agreeable to Sir Wycherly,” answered the barrister by pro- 
fession, though not by practice. “ It would be advisable to get 
his approbation of even the language.” 

“ That we intend to do, of course, sir. Sir Wycherly, do 
you find the terms of this will to your liking ?” 

Sir Wycherly smiled, and very clearly gave the sign of 
assent. 

“ I thought as much — for, Atwood has made the wills of 
two admirals, and of three captains, to my knowledge ; and 
my Lord Chief Justice said that one of the last would have 
done credit to the best conveyancer in England, and that it 
was a pity the testator had nothing to bequeath. Now, Sir 
Wycherly, will you have one executor, or more? If one, 
hold up a single finger ; and a finger for each additional 
executor you wish us to insert in these blanks. One, Atwood 
— you perceive, gentlemen, that Sir Wycherly raises but 
one finger ; and so you can give a flourish at the end of 
the ‘ r,’ as the word will be in the singular ; — ^hey ! At- 
wood ?” 

The secretary did as directed, and then reported himself 
ready to proceed. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


247 


“ It will be necessary for you now to name your executor, 
Sir Wycherly — make as little effort as possible, as we shall 
understand the name, alone.” 

Sir Wycherly succeeded in uttering the name of “ Sir Re- ' 
ginald Wychecombe,” quite audibly. 

“ This is plain enough,” resumed the vice-admiral ; “ how 
does the sentence read now, Atwood ?” 

“ ‘ Imprimis : — I do hereby constitute and appoint Sir 
Reginald Wychecombe of Wychecombe-Regis, in the county of 
Herts, Baronet, the executor of this my said will, &c.’ ” 

“ If that clause is to your liking. Sir Wycherly, have the 
goodness to give the sign agreed on.” 

The sick man smiled, nodded his head, raised his hand, and 
looked anxiously at his kinsman. 

“ I consent to serve. Sir Wycherly, if such is your desire,” 
observed the nominee, who detected the meaning of his kins- 
man’s look. 

“ And now, sir,” continued the vice-admiral ; “ it is neces- 
sary to ask you a few questions, in order that Atwood may 
know what next to write. Is it your desire to bequeath any 
real estate ?” Sir Wycherly assented. “ Do you wish to be- 
queath all your real estate ?” The same sign of assent was 
given. “ Do you wish to bequeath all to one person ?” The 
sign of assent was given to this also. “ This makes plain sail- 
ing, and a short run, — hey ! Atwood ?” 

The secretary wrote as fast as possible, and in two or three 
minutes he read aloud, as follows — 

“ ‘ Secondly, I make and declare the following bequests or 

devises — that is to say, I give and bequeath to of 

, all the real estate of which I may die seised, together 

M’ith all the houses, tenements, hereditaments, and appurte- 
nances thereunto belonging, and all my rights to the same, 
whether in law or equity, to be possessed and enjoyed by the 


248 


the two admirals. 


said of in fee, by heirs, executors, 

administrators, or assigns, for ever.’ There are blanks for the 
name and description, as well as for the sex of the devisee,” 
added tlie secretary. 

“ All veiy proper and legal, I believe. Sir Reginald ? — I am 
glad you think so, sir. Now, Sir Wycherly, we wait for the 
name of the lucky person you mean thus to favour.” 

“ Sir Reginald Wychecombe,” the sick man uttered, 
painfully ; half-blood — no nullus. Sir Michael’s heir — my 
heir.” 

“ This is plain English I” cried Sir Gervaise, in the way 
of a man who is not displeased ; “ put in the name of ‘ Sir 
Reginald Wychecombe of Wychecombe-Regis, Herts,’ Atwood 
— ay — that justs fills the blank handsomely — you want ^hi$ 
heirs, executors, &c.’ in the other blank.” 

“I beg your pardon. Sir Gervaise ; it should read ‘by 
himself, his heirs, &c.’ ” 

“ Very true — very true, Atwood. Noav read it slowly, and 
Sir Wycherly will assent, if he approve.” 

This Avas done, and Sir Wycherly not only approved, but it 
was apparent to all present, the abashed and confounded Tom 
himself not excepted, that he approved, with a feeling akin to 
delight. 

“ That gives a black eye to all the land, — hey ! Atwood ?” 
said Sir Gervaise ; who, by this time, had entered into the 
business in hand, with all the interest of a regular notary — or, 
rather, with that of one, on whose shoulders rested the re- 
sponsibility of success or failure. “We come next to the per- 
sonals. Do you wish to bequeath your furniture, wines, horses, 
carriages, and other things of that sort, to any particular per- 
son, Sir Wycherly ?” 

“ All — Sir Reginald — Wychecombe — half-blood — old Sir 
Michael’s heir,” answered the testator. 


’■xj-- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


249 


“ Good — clap that down, Atwood, for it is doing the thing, 
as I like to see family affairs settled. As soon as you are 
ready, let us hear how it sounds in writing.” 

“ ‘ I furthermore bequeath to the said Sir Reginald Wyche- 
combe of Wychecombe-Regis, as aforesaid, baronet, all my 
personal property, whatsoever,’ ” read Atwood, as soon as 
ready ; “ ‘ including furniture, wines, pictures, books, horses 
and carriages, and all other goods and chattels, of which I may 
die possessed, excepting thereout and therefrom, nevertheless, 
such sums in money, stocks, bonds, notes, or other securities 
for debts, or such articles as I may in this instrument especially 
devise to any other person.’ We can now go to especial lega- 
cies, Sir Gervaise, and then another clause may make Sir 
Reginald residuary legatee, if such be Sir Wycherly’s pleasure.” 

“ If you approve of that clause, my dear sir, make the 
usual sign of assent.” 

Sir Wycherly both raised his hand and nodded his head, 
evidently quite satisfied. 

“ Now, my good sir, we come to the pounds — no — guineas ? 
You like that better — ^well, I confess that it sounds better on 
the ear, and is more in conformity with the habits of gentle- 
men. Will you now bequeath guineas ? Good — first name 
the legatee — is that right. Sir Reginald ?” 

“ Q,uite right. Sir Gervaise ; and Sir Wycherly will under- 
stand that he now names the first person to whom he wishes 
to bequeath any thing else.” 

“Milly,” muttered the sick man. 

“ What ? Mills I — the mills go with the lands. Sir Regi- 
nald ?” 

“ He means Miss Mildred Dutton,” eagerly interposed 
Wycherly, though with sufficient modesty. 

“ Yes — right — right,” added the testator. “ Little Milly — 
Milly Dutton — good little Milly.” 


250 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Sir Gervaise hesitated, and looked round at Bluewater, as 
much as to say “ this is bringing coals to Newcastle but 
Atwood took the idea, and wrote the bequest, in the usual 
form. 

“ ‘ I give and bequeath to Mildred Dutton,’ ” he read 
aloud, “ ‘ daughter of Francis Dutton of the Royal Navy, the 

‘ sum of ’ what sum shall I fill the blank with. Sir Wych- 

erly ?” 

“ Three — three — ^yes, three.” 

“ Hundreds or thousands, my good sir ?” asked Sir Ger- 
vaise, a little surprised at the amount of the bequest. 

“ Guineas — three — thousand — guineas — five per cents.” 

“ That’s as plain as logarithms. Give the young lady three 
thousand guineas in the fives, Atwood.” 

“ ‘ I give and bequeath to Mildred Dutton, daughter of 
Francis Dutton of the Royal Navy, the sum of three thousand 
guineas in the five per cent, stocks of this kingdom.’ Will 
that do. Sir Wycherly ?” 

The old man looked at Mildred and smiled benevolently ; 
for, at that moment, he felt he was placing the pure and 
lovely girl above the ordinary contingencies of her situation, 
by rendering her independent. 

“ Whose name shall we next insert. Sir Wycherly?” resumed 
the vice-admiral. “ There must be many more of these guineas 
left.” 

“ Gregory — and — James — children of my brother Thomas 
— Baron Wychecombe — five thousand guineas each,” added 
the testator, making a great effort to express his meaning as 
clearly as possible. 

He was understood ; and, after a short consultation with 
the vice-admiral, Atwood wrote out the devise at length. 

‘“I give and bequeath to my nephews, Gregory and James 
Wychecombe, the reputed sons of my late brother, Thomas 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


251 


Wychecombe, one of the Barons of His Majesty’s Exchequer, 
the sum of five thousand guineas, each, in the five per cent, 
funded debt of this kingdom.’ ” 

“ Do you approve of the devise. Sir Wycherly ? if so, make 
the usual sign of ass*ent ?” 

Sir Wycherly complied, as in all the previous cases of his 
approval. 

“ Whose name shall we next insert, in readiness for a 
legacy. Sir Wycherly ?” asked the admiral. 

Here was a long pause, the baronet evidently turning over 
in his mind, what he had done, and what jet remained to do. 

“ Spread yourselves, my friends, in such a way as to per- 
mit the testator to see you all,” continued the vice-admiral, 
motioning with his hand to widen the circle around the bed, 
which had been contracted a little by curiosity and interest ; 
“ stand more this way. Lieutenant Wycherly Wychecombe^ 
that the ladies may see and be seen ; and you, too, Mr. Thomas 
Wychecombe, come further in front, where your uncle will, 
observe you.” 

This speech pretty exactly reflected the workings of the 
speaker’s mind. The idea that Wycherly was a natural chfid 
of the baronet’s, notwithstanding the Virginian story, was 
uppermost in his thoughts ; and, taking the supposed fact in 
connection with the young man’s merit, he earnestly desired 
to obtain a legacy for him. As for Tom, he cared little 
whether his name appeared in the will or not. Justice was 
now substantially done, and the judge’s property being suflicient 
for his wants, the present situation of the lately reputed heir 
excited but little sympathy. Nevertheless, Sir Gervaise thought 
it would be generous, under the circumstances, to remind the 
testator that such a being as Tom Wychecombe existed. 

“ Here is your nephew, Mr. Thomas, Sir Wycherly,” he 
said ; is it your wish to let his name appear in your will ?” 


252 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


The sick man smiled coldly ; but he moved his head, as 
much as to imply assent. 

“ ‘ I give and bequeath to Thomas Wychecombe, the eldest 
reputed son of my late brother, Thomas, one of the Barons of 
His Majesty’s Exchequer,’ ” read Atwood, when the clause 

was duly written ; “ ‘ the sum of , in the five per cent. 

stocks of this kingdom.’ ” 

“ What sum will you have inserted. Sir Wycherly ?” asked 
the vice-admiral. 

“ Fifty — fifty — pounds,"' said the testator, in a voice clearer 
and fuller than he had before used that day. 

The necessary w'ords were immediately inserted ; the clause, 
as completed, was read again, and the approval was confirmed 
by a distinctly pronounced “ yes.” Tom started, but, as all 
the others maintained their self-command, the business of the 
moment did not the less proceed. 

“ Do you wish any more names introduced into your will, 
Sir Wycherly ?” asked the vice-admiral. “ You have be- 
queathed but — a-a— a — how much — hey ! Atwood ? — ay, ten 
and three are thirteen, and pounds, make £13,180 ; and 
I hear you have £20,000 funded, besides loose cash, beyond a 
doubt.” 

“Ann Larder — Samuel Cork — Richard Bitts — David Brush 
— Phoebe Keys,” said Sir Wycherly, slowly, giving time after 
each pause, for Atwood to write ; naming his cook, butler, 
groom, valet or body-servant, and housekeeper, in the order 
they have been laid before the reader. 

“ How much to each. Sir Wycherly ?— F see Atwood has 
made short work, and put them all in the same clause — that 
will never do, unless the legacies are the same.” 

“ Good— good— right,” muttered the testator; “£200— 
each — £ 100 0 — all — money — ^money . ” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


253 


This settled the point, and the clause was regularly written, 
read, and approved. 

“This raises the money bequests to £14,180, Sir Wych- 
erly — some 6 or £7000 more must remain to be disposed of. 
Stand a little further this way, if you please, Mr. Wycherly 
Mychecombe, and allow the ladies more room. Whose name 
shall we insert next, sir ?” 

Sir Wycherly, thus directed by the eager desire of the 
admiral to serve the gallant lieutenant, fastened his eyes on 
the young man, regarding him quite a minute in silent at- 
tention. 

“Virginian — same name — American — colonies — good lad— 
hravel^iii — £1000,” muttered the sick man between his teeth; 
and, yet so breathless was the quiet of the chamber, at that 
moment, every syllable was heard by all present. “ Yes — 
£1000 — Wycherly Wychecombe — royal navy — ” 

Atwood’s pen was running rapidly over the paper, and had 
just reached the name of the contemplated legatee, when his 
hand was arrested by the voice of the young man himself 

“ Stop, Mr. Atwood — do not insert any clause in my 
favour !” cried Wycherly, his face the colour of crimson, and 
his chest heaving with the emotions he felt it so difficult to 
repress. “ I decline the legacy — it will be useless to write it, 
as I will not receive a shilling.” 

“ Young sir,” said Sir Gervaise, with a little of the severity 
of a superior, when he rebukes an inferior, in his manner; 

“ you speak hastily. It is not the office of an auditor or of a 
spectator, to repel the kindness of a man about to pass from 
the face of the earth, into the more immediate presence of his 
God !” 

“ I have every sentiment of respect for Sir Wycherly 
Wychecombe, sir ; — every friendly wash for his speedy re- 
covery, and a long evening to his life ; but, I will accept of 

22 


254 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


the money of no man who holds my country in such obvious 
distaste, as, it is apparent, the testator holds mine.” 

You are an Englishman, I believe. Lieutenant Wyche- 
combe ; and a servant of King George II. ?” 

“ I am not an Englishman, Sir Gervaise Oakes — ^but an 
American ; a Virginian, entitled to all the rights and privi- 
leges of a British subject. I am no more an Englishman, than 
Dr. Magrath may lay claim to the same character.” 

“ This is putting the case strongly, — hey ! Atwood ?” an- 
swered the vice-admiral, smiling in spite of the occasion. “ I 
am far from saying that you are an Englishman, in all senses, 
sir ; but you are one in the sense that gives you national 
character and national rights. You are a subject of England.''^ 

“ No, Sir Gervaise ; your pardon. I am the subject of 
George II., but in no manner a subject of Eyigland. I am, 
in one sense, perhaps, a subject of the British empire ; but I 
am not the less a Virginian, and an American. Not a shilling 
of any man’s money will I ever touch, who expresses his con- 
tempt for either.” 

“ You forget yourself, young man, and overlook the future. 
The hundred or two of prize-money, bought at the expense of 
your blood, in the late affair at Groix, will not last for ever.” 

“ It is gone, already, sir, every shilling of it having been 
sent to the widow of the boatswain who was killed at my side. 
I am no beggar. Sir Gervaise Oakes, though only an American. 
I am the owner of a plantation, which affords me a respect- 
able independence, already ; and I do not serve from necessity, 
but from choice. Perhaps, if Sir Wycherly knew this, he 
would consent to omit my name. I honour and respect him ; 
would gladly relieve his distress, either of body or mind ; but 
I cannot consent to accept his money when offered on terms 
I consider humiliating.” 

This was said modestly, but with a w'armth and sincerity 


L. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


255 


which left no doubt that the speaker was in earnest. Sir Ger- 
vaise too much respected the feelings of the young man to urge 
the matter any further, and he turned towards the bed, in 
expectation of what the sick man might next say. Sir Wych- 
erly heard and undeVstood all that passed, and it did not fail 
to produce an impression, even in the state to which he was 
reduced. Kind-hearted, and indisposed to injure even a fly, 
all the natural feelings of the old man resumed their ascend- 
ency, and he would gladly have given every shilling of his 
funded property to be able freely to express his compunction at 
having ever uttered a syllable that could offend sensibilities so 
noble and generous. But this exceeded his powers, and he 
was fain to do the best he could, in the painful situation in 
which he was placed. 

“Noble fellow!” he stuttered out; “honour to name — 
come here — Sir Gervaise — bring here — ” 

“ I believe it is the wush of Sir Wycherly, that you would 
draw near the bed, Mr. Wychecornbe of Virginia,'^ said the 
vice-admiral, pithily, though he extended a hand to, and 
smiled kindly on, the youth as the latter passed him in 
compliance. 

The sick man now succeeded, with a good deal of difficulty, 
in drawing a valuable signet-ring from a finger. — This ring 
bore the Wychecornbe anus, engraved on it. It was without 
the bloody hand, however ; for it was far older than the order 
of baronets, having, as Wycherly -well knew, been given by 
one of the Plantagenet Dukes to an ancestor of the family, 
during the French wars of Henry VI., and that, too, in com- 
memoration of some signal act of gallantry in the field. 

“ Wear this — noble fellow — honour to name,” said Sir 
Wycherly. ^'Must be descended — all Wychecombes descended 
— him — ” 

“ I thank you. Sir Wycherly, for this present, which I prize 


256 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


as it ought to be prized,” said Wycherly, every trace of any 
other feeling than that of gratitude having vanished Irom his 
countenance. “ I may have no claims to your honours or 
money ; hut this ring I need not he ashamed to wear, since it 
was bestow'ed on one who was as much my ancestor, as he was 
the ancestor of any Wychecombe in England.” 

“ Legitimate ?” cried Tom, a fierce feeling of resentment 
upsetting his caution and cunning. 

“ Yes, sir, legitimate^ answered Wycherly, turning to his 
interrogator, with the calmness of one conscious of his own 
truth, and with a glance of the eye that caused Tom to shrink 
hack again into the circle. “ I need no har^ to enable me to 
use this seal, which, you may perceive. Sir Gervaise Oakes, is 
a fac simile of the one I ordinarily wear, and which was 
transmitted to me from my direct ancestors.” 

The vice-admiral compared the seal on Wycherly’s watch- 
chain with that on the ring, and, the bearings being principally 
griffins, he was enabled to see that one was the exact counter- 
part of the other. Sir Reginald advanced a step, and when 
the admiral had satisfied himself, he also took the two seals 
and compared them. As all the known branches of the 
Wychecomhes of Wychecombe, bore the same arms, viz., griffins 
for Wychecombe, with three battering-rams quartered, for 
Wycherly, — he saw, at once, that the young man habitually 
carried about his person, this proof of a common origin. Sir 
Reginald knew very well that arms were often assumed, as 
well as names, and the greater the obscurity of the individual 
who took these liberties, the greater was his impunity ; but 
the seal was a very ancient one, and innovations on personal 
rights were far less frequent a century since, than they are to- 
day. Then the character and appearance of Wycherly put 
fraud out of the question, so far as the young lieutenant himse-lf 
was concerned. Although the cider branch of the family, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


257 


legitimately speaking, was reduced to the helpless old man 
who was now stretehed upon, his death-bed, his own had been 
extensive ; and it well might be that some cadet of the 
Wychecombes of Wychecombe-Regis, had strayed into the 
colonies and left descendants. Secretly resolving to look more 
closely into these facts, he gravely returned the seals, and in- 
timated to Sir Gervaise that the more important business before 
them had better proceed. On this hint, Atwood resumed the 
pen, and the vice-admiral his duties. 

“ There want yet some 6 or £7000 to make up £20,000, 
Sir Wycherly, which I understand is the sum you have in the 
funds. Whose name or names will you have next inserted ?” 

“ Rotherham — vicar — poor St. James — gone ; yes — Mr. — 
Rotherham — vicar.” 

The clause was written, the sum of £1000 was inserted, 
and the whole was read and approved. 

“ This still leaves us some £5000 more to deal with, my 
dear sir ?” 

A long pause succeeded, during which time Sir Wycherly 
was deliberating what to do with the rest of his ready money. 
At length his wandering eye rested on the pale features of 
Mrs. Dutton ; and, while he had a sort of liking, that proceeded 
from habit, tor her husband, he remembered that she had 
many causes for sorrow. With a feeling that was creditable 
to his own heart, he uttered her name, and the sum of £2000. 
The clause was written, accordingly, read and approved. 

“ We have still £3000 certainly, if not £4000,” added 
Sir Gervaise. 

“ Milly — dear little — Milly — pretty Milly,” stammered out 
the baronet, affectionately. 

“ This must go into a codicil. Sir Gervaise,” interrupted 
Atwood ; “ there being already one legacy in the young lady’s 
favour. Shall it be one, two, three or four thousand pounds, 

23 * 


268 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Sir Wycherly, in favour of Miss Mildred, to whom you have 
already bequeathed £3000.” 

The sick man muttered the words “ three thousand,” after 
a short pause, adding “ codicil.” 

His wishes were complied with, and the whole was read 
and approved. After this, Sir Gervaise inquired if the testator 
wished to make any more devises. Sir Wycherly, who had in 
effect bequeathed, within a few hundred pounds, all he had to 
bestow, bethought himself, for a few moments, of the state of 
his affairs, and then he signified his satisfaction with w'hat had 
been done. 

“ As it is possible. Sir Wycherly, that you may have over- 
looked something,” said Sir Gervaise, “ and it is better that 
nothing should escheat to the crown, I will suggest the expedi- 
ency of your making some one residuary legatee.” 

The poor old man smiled an assent, and then he succeeded 
in muttering the name of “ Sir Reginald Wychecombe.” 

This clause, like all the others, was written, read, and 
approved. The will was now completed, and preparations 
were made to read it carefully over to the intended testator. 
Ill order that this might be done with sufficient care for future 
objections, the two admirals and Atwood, who were selected 
for the witnesses, each read the testament himself, in order to 
say that nothing was laid before the testator but that which 
was fairly contained in the instrument, and that nothing was 
omitted. When all was ready, the will was audibly and 
slowly read to Sir Wycherly, by the secretary, from the begin- 
ning to the end. The old man listened with great attention ; 
smiled when Mildred’s name was mentioned ; and clearly 
expressed, by signs and words, his entire satisfaction when all 
was ended. It remained only to place a pen in his hand, and 
to give him such assistance as would enable him to affix his 
name twice ; once to the body of the instrument ; and, when 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


269 


this was duly witnessed, then again to the codicil. By this 
time, Tom Wychecombe thought that the moment for inter- 
posing had arrived. He had been on thorns during the whole 
proceeding, forming desperate resolutions to sustain the bold 
fraud of his legitimacy, and thus take all the lands and heir- 
looms of the estate, under the entail ; still he well knew that a 
subordinate but important question might arise, as between the 
validity of the two wills, in connection with Sir Wycherly’s 
competency to make the last. It was material, therefore, in 
his view of the case, to enter a protest. 

“ Gentlemen,” he said, advancing to the foot of the bed ; 
“ I call on you all to observe the nature of this whole transac- 
tion. My poor, beloved, but misled uncle, no longer ago than 
last night, w'as struck with a fit of apoplexy, or something so 
very near it as to disqualify him to judge in these matters ; and 
here he is urged to make a will — ” 

“ By whom, sir ?” demanded Sir Gervaise, with a severity 
of tone that induced the speaker to fall hack a step. 

“ Why, sir, in my judgment, by all in the room. If not 
with their tongues, at least with their eyes.” 

“ And why should all in the room do this ? Am I a lega- 
tee ? — is Admiral Bluewater to be a gainer by this will ? — 
can witnesses to a will be legatees ?” 

“ I do not wish to dispute the matter with you, Sir Ger- 
vaise Oakes ; but I solemnly protest against this irregular and 
most extraordinary manner of making a will, Let all who 
hear me, remember this, and be ready to testify to it when 
called on in a court of justice.” 

Here Sir Wycherly struggled to rise in the bed, in evident 
excitement, gesticulating strongly to express his disgust, and his 
wish for his nephew to withdraw. But the physicians en- 
deavoured to pacify him, while Atwood, with the paper spread 
on a port-folio, and a pen in readiness, coolly proceeded to oh- 


260 


TIIE TWO ADMIRALS. 


tain the necessary signatures. Sir Wycherly’s hand trembled 
so much when it received the pen, that, lor the moment, 
writing was out of the question, and it became necessary to 
administer a restorative in order to strengthen his nerves. 

“ Away — out of sight,” muttered the excited baronet, leav- 
ing no doubt on all present, that the uppermost feeling of the 
moment was the strong desire to rid himself of the presence of 
the offensive object. “ Sir Reginald — little Milly — poor ser- 
vants — brothers — all the rest, stay.” 

“ Just be calming the mind. Sir Wycherly Wychecombe,” 
put in Magrath, “ and ye’ll be solacing the body by the same 
efibrt. When the mind is in a state of exaltation, the nervous 
system is apt to feel the influence of sympathy. By bringing 
the two in harmonious co-operation, the testamentary devises 
will have none the less of validity, either in reality or in ap- 
pearances.” 

Sir Wycherly understood the surgeon, and he struggled for 
self-command. He raised the pen, and succeeded in getting 
its point on the proper place. Then his dim eye lighted, and 
shot a reproachful glance at Tom ; he smiled in a ghastly man- 
ner, looked towards the paper, passed a hand across his brow, 
closed his eyes, and fell back on the pillow, utterly uncon- 
scious of all that belonged to life, its interests, its duties, or its 
feelings. In ten minutes, he ceased to breathe. 

Thus died Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, after a long life, in 
which general qualities of a very negative nature, had been 
somewhat relieved, by kindness of feeling, a passive if not an 
active benevolence, and such a discharge of his responsible 
duties as is apt to flow from an absence of any qualities that 
are positively bad ; as well as of many of material account, 
that are affirmatively good. 


CHAPTER XV. 


“ Come ye, who still the cumbrous load of life 
Push hard up hill ; but at the farthest steep 
You trust to gain, and put an end to strife, 

Down thunders back the stone with mighty sweop^ 

And hurls your labours to the valley deep ” 

Thomson. 

The sudden, and, in some measure, unlooked-for event, re- 
lated in the close of the last chapter, produced a great change 
in the condition of things at Wychecomhe Hall. The first step 
was to make sure that the baronet was actually dead ; a fact 
that Sir Gervaise Oakes, in particular, was very unwilling to 
believe, in the actual state of his feelings. Men often fainted, 
and apoplexy required three blows to kill ; the sick man might 
still revive, and at least be able to execute his so clearly ex- 
pressed intentions. 

“ Ye’ll never have act of any sort, testamentary or matri- 
monial, legal or illegal, in this life, from the late Sir Wycherly 
Wychecombe of Wychecombe Hall, Devonshire,” coolly ob- 
served Magrath, as he collected the different medicines and 
instruments he had himself brought forth for the occasion. 
“ He’s far beyond the jurisdiction of My Lord High Chancellor 
of the college of Physicians and Surgeons ; and therefore, ye’ll 
be acting prudently to consider him as deceased ; or, in the 
light in which the human body is placed by the cessation of all 
the animal functions.” 

This decided the matter, and the necessaiy orders were 
given ; all but the proper attendants quitting the chamber of 


202 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


death. It would be far from true to say that no one lamented 
Sir Wycherly Wychecombe. Both Mrs. Dutton and Mildred 
grieved for his sudden end, and wept sincerely for his loss ; 
though totally without a thought of its consequences to them- 
selves. The daughter did not even once think how near she 
had been to the possession of £6000, and how unfortunately 
the cup of comparative affluence had been dashed from her 
lij)s ; though truth compels us to avow that the mother did 
once recall this circumstance, with a feeling akin to regret. 
A similar recollection had its influence on the manifestations 
of sorrow that flowed from others. The domestics, in particu- 
lar, were too much astounded to indulge in any very abstracted 
grief, and Sir Gervaise and Atwood were both extremely vexed. 
In short, the feelings, usual to such occasions were but little 
indulged in, though there was a strict observance of de- 
corum. 

Sir Reginald Wychecombe noted these circumstances at- 
tentively, and he took his measures accordingly. Seizing a 
favourable moment to consult with the two admirals, his deci- 
sion was soon made ; and, within an hour after his kinsman’s 
death, all the guests and most of the upper servants were as- 
sembled in the room, which it was the usage of the house to 
call the library ; though the books were few, and seldom read. 
Previously, there had been a consultation between Sir Reginald 
and the two admirals, to which Atwood had been admitted, 
ex officio. As every thing, therefore, had been arranged in ad- 
vance, there was no time lost unnecessarily, Avhen the company 
was collected ; the Hertfordshire baronet coming to the point 
at once, and that in the clearest manner. 

“ Gentlemen, and you, good people, domestics of the late 
Sir Wycherly Wychecombe,” he commenced; “you are all 
acquainted with the unfortunate state ol* this household. By 
the recent death of its master, it is left without a head ; and 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


2G3 


the deceased departing this life a bachelor, there is no child to 
assume his place, as the natural and legal successor. In one 
sense, I might be deemed the next of kin ; though, by a 
dictum of the common law I have no claim to the succession. 
Nevertheless, you all' know it was the intention of our late 
friend to constitute me his executor, and I conceive it proper 
that search should now be made for a will, which, by being 
duly executed, must dispose of all in this house, and let us 
know who is entitled to command at this solemn and im- 
portant moment. It strikes me. Sir Gervaise Oakes, that 
the circumstances are so peculiar as to call for prompt pro- 
ceedings.” 

“ I fully agree with you, Sir Reginald,” returned the vice- 
admiral ; “ but before we proceed any further, I would suggest 
the propriety of having as many of those present as possible, 
who have an interest in the result. Mr. Thomas Wyche- 
combe, the reputed nephew of the deceased, I do not see 
among us.” 

On examination, this was found to be true, and the man of 
Tom Wychecombe, who had been ordered by his master to be 
present as a spy, was immediately sent to the latter, -with a 
request that he would attend. After a delay of two or three 
minutes, the fellow returned with the answer. 

“ Sir Thomas Wychecombe’s compliments, gentlemen,” he 
said, “ and he desires to know the object of your request. He 
is in his room, indulging in natural grief for his recent loss ; 
and he prefers to be left alone with his sorrows, just at this 
moment, if it be agreeable to you.” 

This was taking high ground in the commencement ; and, 
as the man had his cue, and delivered his message with great 
distinctness and steadiness, the effect on the dependants of the 
household was very evident. Sir Reginald’s face flushed, while 
Sir G ervaise bit his lip ; Bluewater played with the hilt of his 


2G4 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


BW'ord, very indifferent to all that was passing ; while Atwood 
and the surgeons shrugged their shoulders and smiled. The 
first of these persons well knew that Tom had no shadow of a 
claim to the title he had been in so much haste to assume, 
however, and he hoped that the feebleness of his rights in all 
particulars, was represented by the mixed feebleness and im- 
pudence connected with this message. Determined not to be 
bullied from his present purpose, therefore, he turned to the 
servant and sent him back with a second message, that did not 
fail of its object. The man was directed to inform his master, 
that Sir Reginald Wychecombe was in possession of facts that, 
in his opinion, justified the course he was taking, and if “Mr. 
Thomas Wychecombe” did not choose to appear, in order to 
look after his own interests, he should proceed without him. 
This brought Tom into the room, his face pale with uncertain- 
ty, rather than w'ith grief, and his mind agitated with such 
apprehensions as are apt to beset even the most wicked, when 
they take their first important step in evil. He bowed, how- 
ever, to the company with an air that he intended to represent 
the manner of a well-bred man acknowledging his duties to 
respected guests. 

“ If I appear remiss in any of the duties of a host, gentle- 
men,” he said, “ you will overlook it, I trust, in consideration 
of my present feelings. Sir Wycherly was my father’s elder 
brother, and was very dear, as he was very near to me. By 
this melancholy death. Sir Reginald, I am suddenly and unex- 
pectedly elevated to be the head of our ancient and honour- 
able family ; but I know my own personal unworthiness to 
occupy that distinguished place, and feel how much better it 
would be filled by yourself. Although the law has placed a 
wide and impassable barrier between all of your branch of the 
family and ourselves, I shall ever be ready to acknowledge the 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


265 


affhiity, and to confess that it does us quite as much honour as 
it bestows.” 

Sir Reginald, by a great effort, commanded himself so far 
as to return the bow, and apparently to receive the conde- 
scending admissions of the speech, with a proper degree of 
respect. 

“ Sir, I thank you,” he answered, with formal courtesy ; 
“ no affinity that can be properly and legally established, will 
ever be disavowed by me. Under present circumstances, how- 
ever, summoned as I have been to the side of his death-bed, 
by the late Sir Wycherly, himself, and named by him, as one 
might say, with his dying breath, as his executor, I feel it a 
duty to inquire into the rights of all parties, and, if possible, 
to ascertain who is the successor, and consequently who has 
the best claim to command here.” 

“ You surely do not attach any validity. Sir Reginald, to 
the pretended will that was so singularly drawn up in my dear 
uncle’s presence, an hour before he died ! Had that most ex- 
traordinary instrument been duly signed and sealed, I cannot 
think that the Doctor’s Commons would sustain it ; but 
unsigned and unsealed, it is no better than so much waste 
paper.” 

“ As respects the real estate, sir, though so great a loser by 
the delay of five minutes, I am willing to admit that you are 
right. With regard to the personals, a question in equity — 
one of clearly-expressed intention — might possibly arise ; 
though even of that I am by no means certain.” 

“No, sir; no — ” cried Tom, a glow of triumph colouring 
his cheek, in spite of every effort to appear calm ; “ no English 
court would ever disturb the natural succession to the personals ! 
I am the last man to wish to disturb some of these legacies — 
particularly that to Mr. Rotherham, and those to the poor, faith- 
ful domestics,” — Tom saw the prudence of conciliating allies, at 

23 


266 


the two admirals. 


such a critical moment, and his declaration had an instant and 
strong effect, as was evident by the countenances of many of 
the listeners ; — “and I may say, that to Miss Mildred Dutton ; 
all of which will be duly paid, precisely as if my beloved 
uncle had been in his right mind, and had actually made tho 
bequests ; for this mixture of reason and justice, with wild 
and extraordinary conceits, is by no means uncommon among 
men of great age, and in their last moments. However, Sir 
Reginald, I beg you will proceed, and act as in your judgment 
the extraordinary circumstances of what may be called a very 
peculiar case, require.” 

“ I conceive it to be our duty, sir, to search for a will. If 
Sir Wycherly has actually died intestate, it will be time enough 
to inquire into the question of the succession at common law. 
I have here the keys of his private secretary ; and Mr. Furlong, 
the land-steward, who has just arrived, and whom you see in 
the room, tells me Sir Wycherly was accustomed to keep all 
his valuable papers in this piece of furniture. I shall now 
proceed to open it.” 

“ Do so. Sir Reginald ; no one can have a stronger desire 
than myself to ascertain my beloved uncle’s pleasure. Those 
to whom he seemed to wish to give, even, shall not be losers 
for the want of his name.” 

Tom was greatly raised in the opinions of half in the room, 
by this artful declaration, which was effectually securing just 
so many friends, in the event of any occurrence that might 
render such support necessary. In the mean time. Sir Regi- 
nald, assisted by the steward, opened the secretary, and found 
the deposite of papers. The leases w'ere all in order ; the 
title-deeds were properly arranged ; the books and accounts 
appeared to be exactly kept ; ordinary bills and receipts were 
filed with method ; two or three bags of guineas proved that 
ready cash was not wanting ; and, in short, every thing 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


20 


showed that the deceased had left his affairs in perfect order, 
and in a very intelligible condition. Paper after paper, how- 
ever, was opened, and nothing like a will, rough draft or copied, 
was to be found. Disappointment was strongly painted on the 
faces of all the gentlemen present ; for, they had ignorantly 
imbibed the opinion, that the production of a will would, in 
some unknown manner, defeat the hopes of the soi-clisant Sir 
Thomas Wychecombe. Nor was Tom, himself, altogether 
without concern ; for, since the recent change in his- uncle’s 
feelings towards himself, he had a secret apprehension that 
some paper might be found, to defeat all his hopes. Triumph, 
however, gradually assumed the place of fear, in the expres- 
sion of his countenance ; and when Mr. Furlong, a perfectly 
honest man, declared that, from the late baronet’s habits, as well 
as from the result of this search, he did not believe that any 
such instrument existed, his feelings overflowed in language. 

“ Not so fast. Master Furlong — not so fast,” he cried ; 
“ here is something that possibly even your legal acumen may 
be willing to term a will. You perceive, gentlemen, I have it 
in my possession on good authority, as it is addressed to me by 
name, and that, too, in Sir Wycherly’s own handwriting ; the 
envelope is sealed with his private seal. You will pronounce 
this to be my dear uncle’s hand, Furlong,” — showing the super- 
scription of the letter — “and this to be his seal?” 

“ Both are genuine, gentlemen,” returned the steward, with 
a sigh. “ Thus far, Mr. Thomas is in the right.” 

“ Mr. Thomas, sirrah ! — and why not Sir Thomas ? Are 
baronets addressed as other men, in England ? But, no mat- 
ter ! There is a time for all things. Sir Gervaise Oakes, as 
you are perfectly indifierent in this affair, I ask of you the 
favour to break the seal, and to inquire into the contents of 
the paper ?” 

The vico-admiral was not slow in complying ; for, by this 


- 268 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


time, he began to feel ah intense interest ui the result. The 
reader will readily understand that Tom had handed to Sir 
Gervaise the will drawn up by his father, and which, after 
inserting his reputed nephew’s name. Sir Wycherly had duly 
executed, and delivered to the person most interested. The 
envelope, address, and outer seal, Tom had obtained the very 
day the will was signed, after assuring himself of the contents 
of the latter, by six or eight careful perusals. The vice-admi- 
ral read the instrument from beginning to end, before he put it 
into the hands of Sir Reginald to examine. The latter fully 
expected to meet with a clumsy forgery ; hut the instant his 
eyes fell on the phraseology, he perceived that the will had 
been drawn by one expert in the law. A second look satisfied 
him that the hand was that of Mr. Baron Wychecombe. It 
has already been said, that in this instrument, Sir Wycherly 
bequeathed all he had on earth, to “ his nephew, Thomas 
Wychecombe, son, &c., &c.,” making his heir, also, his 
executor. 

“ This will appears to me to have been drawn up by a 
very skilful laM^er ; the late Baron Wychecombe,” observed 
the baronet. 

“ It was, Sir Reginald,” answered Tom, endeavouring to 
appear unconcerned. “ He did it to oblige my respected uncle, 
leaving blanks for the name of the devisee, not liking to make 
a will so very decidedly in favour of his own son. The 
writing in the blanks is by Sir Wycherly himself, leaving no 
doubts of his intentions.” . . 

“ I do not see but you may claim to be the heir of Wyche- 
combe, sir, as well as of the personals ; though your claims to 
the baronetcy shall certainly be contested and defeated.” 

“ And why defeated ?” demanded Wycherly, stepping for- 
ward for the first time, and speaking with a curiosity he found 
it difficult to control. “ Is not Mr. Thomas — Sir Thomas, 1 


.THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


269 


ought rather to say, — the eldest son of the late Sir Wycherly’s 
next brother ; and, as a matter of course, heir to the title, as 
well as to the estate ?” 

“ Not he, as I can answer from a careful examination of 
proofs. Mr. Baron Wychecombe was never married, and thus 
could have no heir at law.” 

“ Is this possible ! — How have we all been deceived then, 
in America !” 

“ Why do you say this, young gentleman ? Can yoit have 
any legal claims here ?” 

“ I am Wycherly, the only son of Wycherly, who was the 
eldest son of Gregory, the younger brother of the late baronet ; 
and if what you say be true, the next in succession to the 
baronetcy, at least.” 

“ This is — ” Tom’s words stuck in his throat ; for the quiet, 
stern eye of the young sailor met his look and warned him to 
be prudent. — “ This is a mistake, ” he resumed. “ My uncle 
Gregory was lost at sea, and died a bachelor. He can have 
left no lawful issue.” 

“ I must say, young gentleman,” added Sir Reginald, 
gravely, “ that such has always been the history of his fate. 
I have had too near an interest in this family, to neglect its 
annals.” 

“ I know, sir, that such has been the opinion here for more 
than half a century ; but it was founded in error. The facts 
are simply these. My grandfather, a warm-hearted but im- 
petuous young man, struck an older lieutenant, when ashore 
and on duty, in one of the West India Islands. The penalty 
was death ; but, neither the party injured nor the commander 
of the vessel, wished to push matters to extremity, and the 
oflender was advised to absent himself from the ship, at the 
moment of sailing. The injured party was induced to take 
this course, as in a previous quarrel, my grandfather had 

23 » 


270 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


received his fire, without returning it ; frankly admitting his 
fault. The ship did sail without Mr. Gregory Wychecombe, 
and was lost, every soul on board perishing. My grandfather 
passed into Virginia, where he remained a twelvemonth, sup- 
pressing his story, lest its narration might lead to military 
punishment. Love next sealed his future fate. He married a 
woman of fortune, and though his history was well known in 
his own retired circle, it never spread beyond it. No one 
supposed him near the succession, and there was no motive 
for stating the fact, on account of his interests. Once he 
wrote to Sir Wycherly, but he suppressed the letter, as likely 
to give more pain than pleasure. That letter I now have, and 
in his own hand-writing. I have also his commission, and 
all the other proofs of identity that such a person would be 
apt to possess. They are as complete as any court in Chris- 
tendom would be likely to require, for he never felt a ne- 
cessity for changing his name. He has been dead but two 
years, and previously to dying he saw that every document 
necessary to establish my claim, should a moment for enforcing 
it ever arrive, was put in such a legal form as to admit of 
no cavilling. He outlived my own father, but none of us 
thought there W'as any motive for presenting ourselves, as all 
believed that the sons of Baron Wychecombe were legitimate: 

I can only say, sir, that I have complete legal evidence that 
I am heir at law of Gregory, the younger brother of the late 
Sir Wycherly Wychecombe. Whether the fact will give me 
any rights here, you best can say.” 

“ It will make you heir of entail to this estate, master of 
this house, and of most of what it contains, and the present 
baronet. You have only to prove what you say, to defeat 
every provision of this will, with the exception of that which 
refers to the personal estate,” 

“ Bravo !” cried Sir Gervaise, fairly rubbing his hands with 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


271 


delight. “ Bravo, Dick ; if we were aboard the Plantagenet, 
by the Lord, I’d turn the hands up, and have three cheers. 
So then, my brave young seaman, you turn out to be Sir 
Wycherly Wychecombe, after all !” 

“ Yes, that’s the way we always does, on board ship,” ob- 
served Galley go, to the group of domestics ; “ whenever any 
thing of a hallooing character turns up. Sometimes we 
makes a signal to Admiral Blue and the rest on ’em, to 
‘ stand by to cheer,’ and all of us sets to, to cheer as if our 
stomachs was full of hurrahs, and we wanted to get rid on ’em. 
If Sir Jarvy would just pass the word now, you’d have a taste 
of that ’ere custom, that would do your ears good for a twelve- 
month. It’s a cheering matter when the one of the trade falls 
heir to an estate.” 

“And would this be a proper mode of settling a question 
of a right of property. Sir Gervaise Oakes ?” asked Tom, with 
more of right and reason than he commonly had of his side ; 
“ and that, too, with my uncle lying dead beneath this roof?” 

“ I acknowledge the justice of the reproof, young sir, and 
will say no more in the matter — at least, nothing as indiscreet 
as my last speech. Sir Reginald, you have the affair in hand, 
and I recommend it to your serious attention.” 

“ Fear nothing. Sir Gervaise,” answered he of Hertford- 
shire. “ Justice shall be done in the premises, if justice rule 
in England. Your story, young gentleman, is probable, and 
naturally told, and I see a family likeness between you and the 
Wychecombes, generally ; a likeness that is certainly not to be 
traced in the person of the other claimant. Did the point 
depend on the legitimacy of Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, it 
might be easily determined, as I have his own mother’s decla- 
ration to the fact of his illegitimacy, as well as of one other 
material circumstance that may possibly unsettle even the late 
Baron Wychecombe’s will. But this testamentary devise of 


272 


THE TWO A D M I K A L S . 


Sir Wycherly appears to be perfect, and nothing but the entail 
can defeat it. You speak of your proofs ; where are they 
It is all-important to know w'hich party is entitled to pos- 
session.” 

“ Here they are, sir,” answered Wycherly, removing a belt 
from his body, and producing his papers ; “ not in the originals, 
certainly ; for most of them are matters of official record, in 
Virginia ; but in, what the lawyers call ‘ exemplified copies,’ 
and which I am told are in a fit state to be read as evidence 
in any court in England, that can take cognizance of the 
matter.” 

Sir Reginald took the papers, and began to read them, one 
by one, and with deep attention. The evidence of the identity 
of the grandfather was full, and of the clearest nature. He 
had been recognised as an old schoolfellow, by one of the 
governors of the colony, and it was at this gentleman’s sug- 
gestion that he had taken so much pains to perpetuate the 
evidence of his identity. Both the marriages, one with Jane 
Beverly, and the other with Rebecca Randolph, were fully 
substantiated, as were the two births. The personal identity 
of the young man, and this too as the only son of Wycherly, 
the eldest son of Gregory, was well certified to, and in a way 
that could leave no doubt as to the person meant. In a word, 
the proofs were such as a careful and experienced lawyer would 
have prepared, in a case that admitted of no doubt, and which 
was liable to be contested in a court of law. Sir Reginald 
was quite half an hour in looking over the papers ; and during 
this time, every eye in the room was on him, watching the 
expression of his countenance with the utmost solicitude. At 
length, he finished his task, when he again turned to Wycherly. 

“These papers have been prepared with great method, 
and an acute knowledge of what might be required,” he said. 
“ Why have they been so long suppressed, and why die you 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


273 


permit Sir "Wycherly to die in ignorance of your near affinity 
to him, and of your claims ?” 

“Of my claims I w'as ignorant myself, believing not only 
Mr. Thomas Wychecombe, but his two brothers, to stand 
before me. This was the opinion of my grandfather, even 
when he caused these proofs to be perpetuated. They were 
given to me, that I might claim affinity to the family on my 
arrival in England ; and it was the injunction of my grand* 
father that they should be worn on my person, until the mo- 
ment arrived when I could use them.” 

“ This explains your not preferring the claim — why not 
prefer the relationship ?” 

“What for, sir? I found America and Americans looked 
down on, in England — colonists spoken of as a race of inferior 
beings — of diminished stature, feebler intellects, and a waning 
spirit, as compared to those from whom they had so recently 
sprung ; and I w^as too proud to confess an affinity where I 
saw it was not desired. When wounded, and expecting to die, 
I w^as landed here, at my own request, with an intention to 
state the facts ; hut, falling under the care of ministering 
angels,” — ^here Wycherly glanced his eye at Mildred and her 
mother — “ I less felt the want of relatives. Sir Wycherly I 
honoured ; but he too manifestly regarded us Americans as 
inferiors, to leave any wish to tell him I was his great-nephew.” 

“ I fear we are not altogether free from this reproach. Sir 
Gervaise,” observed Sir Reginald, thoughtfully. “We do ap 
pear to think there is something in the air of this part of the 
island, that renders us better than common. Nay, if a claim 
comes from over water, let it be what it may, it strikes us as 
a foreign and inadmissible claim. The fate from which even 
princes are not exempt, humbler men must certainly submit 
to!” 

“ I can understand the feeling, and I think it honourable 


274 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


to the young man. Admiral Blue water, you and I have had 
occasion often to rebuke this very spirit in our young officers ; 
and you will agree with me when I say that this gentleman 
has acted naturally, in acting as he has.” 

“ I must corroborate what you say. Sir Gervaise,” answered 
Blue water ; “ and, as one who has seen much of the colonies, 
and who is getting to be an old man, I venture to predict that 
this very feeling, sooner or later, will draw down upon England 
its own consequences, in the shape of condign punishment.” 

“I don’t go as far as that, Dick — I don’t go as far as that. 
But it is unwise and unsound, and vv^e, who know both hemi- 
spheres, ought to set our faces against it. We have already 
some gallant fellows from that quarter of the world among us, 
and I hope to live to see more.” 

This, let it be remembered, w^as said before the Hallo wells, 
and Coffins, and Brentons of our own times, were enrolled in 
a service that has since become foreign to that of the land of 
their birth ; but it was prophetic of their appearance, and of 
that of many other high names from the colonies, in the lists 
of the British marine. Wycherly smiled proudly, but he 
made no answer. All this time. Sir Reginald had been musing 
on what had passed. 

“ It would seem, gentlemen,” the latter now observed, 
“ that, contrary to our belief, there is an heir to the baronetcy, 
as well as to the estate of Wychecombe ; and all our regrets 
that the late incumbent did not live to execute the will we 
had drawn at his request, have become useless. Sir Wycherly 
Wychecombe, I congratulate you, on thus succeeding to the 
honours and estates of your family ; and, as a member of the 
last, I may be permitted to congratulate all of the name in 
being so w'orthily represented. For one of that family I cheer- 
fully recognise you as its head and chief.” 

Wycherly bowed his acknowledgments, receiving also the 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


275 


compliments of most of the others present. Tom Wyche- 
combe, however, formed an exception, and instead of mani- 
festing any disposition to submit to this summary disposal of 
his claims, he was brooding over the means of maintaining 
them. Detecting by the countenances of the upper servants 
that they were effectually bribed by his promise to pay the 
late baronet’s legacies, he felt tolerably confident of support 
from that quarter. He well knew that possession was nine 
points of the law, and his thoughts naturally turned towards 
the means necessary to securing this great advantage. As 
yet, the two claimants were on a par, in this respect ; for while 
the executed will might seem to give him a superior claim, no 
authority that was derived from an insufficient source would 
be deemed available in law ; and Sir Wycherly had clearly 
no right to devise Wychecombe, so long as there existed an 
heir of entail. Both parties, too, were merely guests in the 
house ; so that neither had any possession that would require 
a legal process to eject him. Tom had been entered at the 
Temple, and had some knowledge of the law of the land ; 
more especially as related to real estate ; and he was aware 
that there existed some quaint ceremony of taking possession, 
as it existed under the feudal system ; but he was ignorant of 
the precise forms, and had some reasonable doubts how far 
they would benefit him, under the peculiar circumstances of 
this case. On the w’hole, therefore, he was disposed to try 
the effect of intimidation, by means of the advantages he 
cleasrly possessed, and of such little reason as the facts con- 
nected with his claim, allowed him to offer. 

“ Sir Reginald Wychecombe,” he said gravely, and with 
as much indifference as he could assume ; “ you have betrayed 
a facility of belief in this American history, that has surprised 
me in one with so high a reputation for prudence and caution. 
This sudden revival of the dead may answer for the credu- 


276 


•THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


'lous lovers of marvels, but it would hardly do for a jury of 
twelve sober-minded and sworr. men. Admitting the whole 
of this gentleman’s statement to be true, however, you will 
not deny the late Sir Wycherly’s right to make a will, if he 
only devised his old shoes ; and, having this right, that of 
naming his executor necessarily accompanied it. Now, sir, I 
am clearly that executor, and as such I demand leave to 
exercise my functions in this house, as its temporary master 
at least.” 

“ Not so fast — not so fast, young sir. Wills must be 
proved and executors qualified, before either has any validity. 
Then, again. Sir Wycherly could only give authority over that 
which was his own. The instant he ceased to breathe, his 
brother Gregory’s grandson became the life-tenant of this es- 
tate, the house included ; and I advise him to assert that 
right, trusting to the validity of his claim, for his justification 
in law, should it become necessary. In these matters he 
who is right is safe ; while he who is wrong must take the 
consequences of his own acts. Mr. Furlong, your steward- 
ship ceased with the life of your principal ; if you have any 
keys or papers to deliver, I advise your placing them in the 
hands of this gentleman, whom, beyond all cavil, I take to be 
the rightful Sir Wycherly Wychecombe.” 

Furlong was a cautious, clear-headed, honest man, and 
with every desire to see Tom defeated, he was tenacious of 
doing his duty. He led Sir Reginald aside, therefore, and ex- 
amined him, at some length, touching the nature of the proofs 
that had been oflered ; until, quite satisfied that there could 
be no mistake, he declared his willingness to comply with the 
request. 

“ Certainly, I hold the keys of the late Sir Wycherly’s 
papers, — those ihat have just been seen in the search for the 
will,” lie said, and have every wish to place them in the* 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


277 


hands of their proper owner. Here they are, Sir Wycherly ; 
though I would advise you to remove the hags of gold that are 
in the secretary, to some other place ; as those your uncle had 
a right to bequeath to whom he saw fit. Every thing else in 
the secretary goes with the estate ; as do the plate, furniture, 
and other heir-looms of the Hall.” 

“ I thank you, Mr. Furlong, and I will first use these keys 
to follow your advice,” answered the new baronet ; “ then I 
wdll return them to you with a request that you will still retain 
the charge of all your former duties.” 

This was no sooner said than done ; Wycherly placing the 
bags of gold on the floor, until some other place of security 
could be provided. 

“ All that I legally can. Sir Wycherly, will I cheerfully do, 
.in order to aid you in the assertion of your right ; though I do 
not see how I can transfer more than I hold. Qui facit per 
alium, facit per se, is good law. Sir Reginald ; but the prin- 
cipal must have power to act, before the deputy can exercise 
authority. It appears to me that this a case, in which each 
party stands on his own rights, at his own peril. The pos- 
session of the farms is safe enough, for the time being, with the 
tenants ; but as to the Hall and Park, there would seem to be 
no one in the legal occupancy. This makes a case in which 
title is immediately available.” 

“ Such is the law, Mr. Furlong, and I advise Sir Wycherly 
to take possession of the key of the outer door at once, as 
master of the tenement.” 

No sooner was this opinion given, than Wycherly left the 
room, followed by all present to the hall. Here he proceeded 
alone to the vestibule, locked the great door of the building, 
and put the key in his pocket. This act was steadily perform- 
ed, and in a way to counteract, in a great degree, the effect on 
the domestics, of Tom’s promises concerning the legacies At 

24 


278 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


the same moment, Furlong whispered something in the ear of 
Sir Reginald. 

“ Now you are quietly in possession, Sir Wycherly,” said 
the latter, smiling ; “ there is no necessity of keeping us all 
prisoners in order to maintain your claims. David, the usual 
porter, Mr. Furlong tells me, is a faithful servant, and if he 
will accept of the key as your agent it may be returned to him 
wdth perfect legal safety.” 

As David cheerfully assented to this proposition, the key 
was put into his hands again, and the new Sir Wycherly was 
generally thought to be in possession. Nor did Tom dare to 
raise the contemplated question of his own legitimacy before Six 
Reginald, who, he had discovered, possessed a clue to the facts ; 
and he consequently suppressed, for the moment at least, the 
certificate of marriage he had so recently forged. Bowing 
round to the whole company, therefore, with a sort of sarcastic 
compliance, he stalked off to his own room with the air of an 
injured man. This left our young hero in possession of the 
field ; but, as the condition of the house was not one suitable 
to an unreasonable display of triumph, the party soon separa- 
ted ; some to consult concerning the future, some to discourse 
of the past, and all to wonder, more or less, at the present. 




CHAPTER XVI. 


“ Let winds be shrill, let waves roll high, 

I fear not wave nor wind ; 

Yet marvel not, Sir Childe, that I 
Am sorrowful of mind.” 

Childe H.4.rold. 

“ Well, Sir Jarvy,” said Galleygo, following on the heels 
of the two admirals, as the latter entered the dressing-room of 
the officer addressed ; “it has turned out just as I thought ; 
and the County of Fair- villain has come out of his hole, like a 
porpoise coming up to breathe, the moment our backs is turned ! 
As soon as we gives the order to square-away for England, and 
I see the old Planter’s cabin windows turned upon France, I 
foreseed them consequences. Well, gentlemen, here’s been a 
heap of prize-money made in this house without much fighting. 
We shall have to give the young lieutenant a leave, for a few 
months, in order that he may take his swing ashore, here, 
among his brother squires !” 

“ Pray, sir, what may be your pleasure ?” demanded Sir 
Gervaise ; “ and what the devil has brought you at my 
heels ?” 

“ Why, big ships always tows small craft, your honour,” re- 
turned Galleygo, simpering. “ Howsever, I never comes with- 
out an errand, as every body knows. You see, S^r Jarvy, — 
you see. Admiral Blue, that our signal-officer is ashore, with a 
report for us ; and meeting me in the hall, he made it to me 
first like, that I might bring it up to you a’terwards. His 
news is that the French county is gone to sea, as I has just told 
you, gentlemen.” 


280 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Can it be possible that Bunting has brought any such 
tidings here ! Harkee, Galleygo ; desire Mr. Bunting to walk 
up ; and then see that you behave yourself as is decent in a 
house of mourning.” 

“ Ay*ay-sir. No fears of I, gentlemen. I can put on as 
grievous a look as the best on ’em, and if they wishes to see 
sorrow becomingly, and ship-shape, let them study my conduct 
and countenance. We has all seen dead men afore now, 
gentlemen, as we all knows. When we fou’t Mounsheer 
Graveland, (Gravelin,) we had forty-seven slain, besides the 
hurt that lived to tell their own pain ; and when we had 
the—” 

“ Go to the devil. Master Galleygo, and desire Mr. Bunting 
to walk up stairs,” cried Sir Gervaise, impatiently. 

“ Ay-ay-sir. Which will your honour have done first ?” 

“Let me see the signal-officer, answered the vice- 
admiral, laughing ; “ then be certain of executing the other 
order.” 

“ Well,” muttered Galleygo, as he descended the stairs ; 
“ if I was to do as he says, now, what would we do with the 
fleet ? Ships wants orders to fight ; and flags W’ants food to 
give orders ; and food wants stewards to be put upon the table ; 
and stewards wants no devils to help ’em do their duty. No 
— no — Sir Jarvy ; I’ll not pay that visit, till wo all goes in 
company, as is suitable for them that has sailed so long to- 
gether.” 

“ This will be great news, Dick, if de Vervillin has really 
come out !” cried Sir Gervaise, rubbing his hands with de- 
light. “ Hang me, if I wait for orders from London ; but we’ll 
sail with the first wind and tide. Let them settle the quarrel 
at home, as they best can ; it is our business to catch the 
Frenchman. How many ships do you really suppose the count 
lo have ?” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


281 


“ Twelve of two decks, besides one three-decker, and beat* 
ing us in frigates. Two or three, however, are short vessels, 
and cannot be quite as heavy as our own. I see no reason 
why we should not engage him.” 

“ I rejoice to hear you say so ! How much more honour- 
able is it to seek the enemy, than to be intriguing about a 
court ! I hope you intend to let me announce that red riband 
in general orders to-morrow, Dick ?” 

“Never, with my consent. Sir Gervaise, so long as the 
house of Hanover confers the boon. But what an extraordi- 
nary scene we have just had below ! This young lieutenant 
is a noble fellow, and I hope, with all my heart, he will be 
enabled to make good his claim.” 

“ Of that Sir Reginald assures me there can be no manner 
of doubt. His papers are in perfect order, and his story sim- 
ple and probable. Do you not remember hearing, when we 
were midshipmen in the West Indies, of a lieutenant of the 
Sappho’s striking a senior officer, ashore ; and of his having 
been probably saved from the sentence of death, by the loss of 
the ship ?” 

“ As well as if it were yes-terday, now you name the ves- 
sel. And this you suppose to have been the late Sir Wych- 
erly’s brother. Did he belong to the Sappho ?” 

“ So they tell me, below ; and it leaves no doubt on my 
mind, of the truth of the whole story.” 

“ It is a proof, too, how easy it is for one to return to En- 
gland, and maintain his rights, after an absence of more than 
half a century. He in Scotland has a claim quite as strong 
as that of this youth I” 

“ Dick Bluewater, you seem determined to pull a house 
down about your own ears ! What have you or I to do with 
these Scotch adventurers, when a gallant enemy invites us to 
come out and meet him ! But, mum — here is Bunting.” 

24 * 


282 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


At this instant the signal-lieutenant of the Plantagenet was 
shown into the room, by Galleygo, in person. 

“ Well, Bunting; what tidings from the fleet?” demanded 
Sir Gervaise. “ Do the ships still ride to the flood ?” 

“ It is slack-water. Sir Gervaise, and the vessels are looking 
all ways at once. Most of us are clearing hawse, for there 
are more round turns in our cables, than I remember ever to 
have seen in so short a time.” 

“ That comes of there being no wind, and the uselessness 
of the staysails and spankers. What has brought you ashore ? 
Galleygo tells us something of a cutter’s coming in, with in- 
formation that the French are out ; but his news is usually 
galley-nQW&y 

“ Not always. Sir Gervaise,” returned the lieutenant, cast- 
ing a side-look at the steward, who often comforted him with 
ship’s delicacies in the admiral’s cabin ; “ this time, he is 
right, at least. The Active is coming in slowly, and has 
been signalling us all the morning. We make her out to 
say that Monsieur Vervillin is at sea with his whole force.” 

“ Yes,” muttered Galleygo to the rear-admiral, in a sort of 
aside ; “ the County of Fairvillain has come out of his hole, 
just as I told Sir Jarvy. Fair- weather- villains they all is, and 
no bones broken.” 

“ Silence — and you think. Bunting, you read the signals 
clearly?” 

“ No doubt of it. Sir Gervaise. Captain Greenly is of the 
same opinion, and has sent me ashore with the news. He de- 
sired me to tell you that the ebb would make in half an hour, 
and that we can then fetch past the rocks to the westward, 
light as the wind is.” 

“ Ay, that is Greenly, I can swear ! — He’ll not sit down 
until we are all aweigh, and standing out. Does the cutter 
tell us which way the count was looking ?” , - , v 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


283 


“ To the 'westward, sir ; on an easy bowline, and under 
short canvass.” 

“ The gentleman is in no hurry, it would seem. Has he a 
convoy ?” 

“Not a sail, sir. Nineteen sail, all cruisers, and only 
twelve of the line. He has one two-decker, and two frigates 
more than we can muster ; just a Frenchman’s odds, sir.” 

“ The count has certainly with him, the seven new ships 
that were built last season,” quietly observed Bluewater, lean- 
ing back in his easy-chair, until his body inclined at an angle 
of forty-five degrees, and stretching a leg on an empty stand, 
in his usual self-indulgent manner. “ They are a little 
heavier than their old vessels, and will give us harder 
work.” 

“ The tougher the job, the more creditable the workman- 
ship. The tide is turning, you say. Bunting ?” 

“ It is, Sir Gervaise ; and we shall all tend ebb, in twenty 
minutes. The frigates outside are riding down channel 
already. The Chloe seems to think that we shall be moving 
soon, as she has crossed top-gallant and royal-yards. Even 
Captain Greenly was thinking of stretching along the mes- 
senger.” 

“ Ah ! you’re a set of uneasy fellows, all round ! — You tire 
of your native land in twenty-four hours, I find. Well, Mr. 
Bunting ; you can go ofT, and say that all is very well. This 
house is in a sad state of confusion, as, I presume, you know. 
Mention this to Captain Greenly.” 

“ Ay-ay-sir ; is it your pleasure I should tell him any thing 
else. Sir Gervaise Oakes ?” 

“Why — yes — Bunting,” answered the vice-admiral, smi- 
ling ; “ you may as well give him a hint to get all his fresh 
grub off, as fast as he can — and — yes ; to let no more men 
quit the ship on liberty.” 


284 


.THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


“ Any thing more, Sir Gervaise ?” added the pertinacious 
officer. 

“ On the whole, you may as well run up a signal to be 
ready to unmoor. The ships can very well ride at single 
anchors, when the tide has once fairly made. What say you, 
Blue water ?” 

“ A signal to unmoor, at once, would expedite matters. 
You know very well, you intend to go to sea, and why not do 
the thing off-hand ?” 

“ I dare say, now. Bunting, you too would like to give the 
commander-in-chief a nudge of some sort or other.” 

“ If I could presume so far. Sir Gervaise. I can only say, 
sir, that the sooner we are off, the sooner we shall flog the 
French.” 

“ And Master Galleygo, what are your sentiments, on this 
occasion ? It is a full council, and all ought to speak, freely.” 

“ You knows. Sir Jarvy, that I never speaks in these 
matters, unless spoken to. Admiral Blue and your honour are 
quite enough to take care of the fleet in most circumstances, 
though there is some knowledge in the tops, as well as in the 
cabin. My ideas is, gentlemen, that, by casting to starboard 
on this ebb tide, we shall all have our heads off-shore, and we 
shall fetch into the offing as easily as a country wench turns 
in a jig. What we shall do with the fleet, when we gets out, 
will he shown in our ultra movements.” 

By “ ultra,” David meant “ ulterior,” a word he had 
caught up from hearing despatches read, which he understood 
no better than those who wrote them at the admiralty. 

“ Thanks to you all, my friends !” cried Sir Gervaise, who 
was so delighted at the prospect of a general engagement, that 
he felt a boyish pleasure in this fooling ; “ and now to business, 
seriously. Mr. Bunting, 1 would have the signal for sailing 
_ shown. Let each ship fire a recall-gun for her boats. Half 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


285 


an hour later, show the bunting to unmoor ; and send my boat 
ashore as soon as you begin to heave on the capstan. So, good- 
morning, my fine fellow, and show your activity.” 

“ Mr. Bunting, as you pass the Csesar, do me the favour to 
ask for my boat, also,” said Bluewater, lazily, but half-raising 
his body to look after the retiring lieutenant. “ If we are to 
move, I suppose I shall have to go with the rest of them. Of 
course we shall repeat all your signals.” 

Sir Gervaise waited until Bunting was out of the room, 
when he turned to the steward, and said with some dryness of 
manner — 

“ Mr. Galleygo, you have my permission to go on board, bag 
and baggage.” 

“Yes, Sir Jarvy, I understands. We are about to get the 
ships under way, and good men ought to he in their places. 
Good-by, Admiral Blue. We shall meet before the face of the 
French, and then I expects every man on us will set an ex- 
ample to himself of courage and devotion.” 

“ That fellow grows worse and worse, each day, and I shall 
have to send hiin. forward, in order to check his impertinence,” 
said Sir Gervaise, half- vexed and half-laughing. “ I wonder 
you stand his s£>ucy familiarity as well as you appear to do— 
with his Admiral Blues !” 

I shall take offence as soon as I find Sir Jarvy really 
out of humour with him. The man is brave, honest, and at- 
tached ; and these are virtues that would atone for a hundred 
faults.” 

“ Let the fellow go to the devil ! — Do you not think I had 
better go out, without waiting for despatches from town ?” 

“ It is hard to say. Your orders may send us all down 
into Scotland, to face Charles Stuart. Perhaps, too, they may 
make you a duke, and me a baron, in order to secure our 
fidelity I” 


286 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ The blackguards ! — well, say no more of that, just now. 
If M. de Vervillin is steering to the westward, he can hardly 
be aiming at Edinburgh, and the movements in the north.” 

“ That is by no means so certain. Your really politie 
fellows usually look one way and row another.” 

“ It is my opinion, that his object is to effect a diversion, 
and my wish is to give it to him, to his heart’s content. So 
long as this force is kept near the chops of the channel, it can 
do no harm in the north, and, in-so-much, must leave the road 
to Germany open.” 

“ For one, I think it a pity — not to say a disgrace — that 
England cannot settle her own quarrels without calling in the 
aid of either Frenchman or Dutchman.” 

“We must take the world as it is, Dick, and act like two 
straight-forward seamen, without stopping to talk politics. I 
take it for granted, notwithstanding your Stuart fervour, that 
you are willing enough to help me thresh Monsieur de Ver- 
villin.” 

“ Beyond a question. Nothing but the conviction that he 
was directly employed in serving my natural and legitimate 
prince, could induce me to show him any favour. Still, 
Oakes, it is possible he may have succours for the Scotch on 
board, and be bound to the north by the way of the Irish 
channel !” 

“ Ay, pretty succours, truly, for an Englishman to stomach ! 
Mousquetaires, and regiments de Croy, or de Dillon, or 

some d d French name or other ; and, perhaps, beautiful 

muskets from the Dois de Vincennes ; or some other infernal 
nest of Gallic inventions to put down the just ascendency of 
old England ! No — no — Dick Bluewater, your excellent, 
loyal, true-hearted English mother, never bore you to be a 
dupe of Bourbon perffdy and trick. I dare say she sickened 
at the very name of Louis !” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


287 


“ ril not answer for that, Sir Jarvy,” returned the rear- 
admiral, with a vacant smile ; “ for she passed some time at 
the court of /e Grand Monarque. But all this is idle ; we 
know each other’s opinions, and, by this time, ought- to 
know each other’s characters. Have you digested any plan 
for your future operations ; and what part am I to play in 
it?” 

Sir Gervaise paced the room, with hands folded behind his 
back, in an air of deep contemplation, for quite five minutes, 
before he answered. All this time, Bluewater remained 
watching his countenance and movements, in anticipation of 
what w^as to come. At length, the vice-admiral appeared to 
have made up his mind, and he delivered himself of his deci- 
sion, as follows. 

“ I have reflected on them, Dick,” he said, “ even while 
my thoughts have seemed to be occupied with the concerns of 
others. If de Vervillin is out, he must still be to the eastward 
of us ; for, running as the tides do on the French coast, he can 
hardly have made much westing with this light south-west 
wind. We are yet uncertain of his destination, and it is all- 
important that we get immediate sight of him, and keep him 
in view, until he can be brought to action. Now, my plan is 
this. I will send out the ships in succession, with orders to 
keep on an easy bowdine, until each reaches the chops of the 
channel, when she is to go about and stand in towards the 
English coast. Each succeeding vessel, however, will weigh 
as soon as her leader is hull down, and keep within signal dis- 
tance, in order to send intelligence through the whole line. 
Nothing will be easier than to keep in sight of each other, in 
such fine weather ; and by these means we shall spread a wide 
clew, — quite a hundred miles, — and command the whole of 
the channel. As soon as Monsieur de Vervillin is made, the 
fleet can close, when we will he governed by circumstances 


288 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Should we see nothing of the French, by the time we make 
their coast, we may be certain they have gone up channel ; 
and then, a signal from the van can reverse the order of sail- 
ing, and we will chase to the eastward, closing to a line abreast 
as fast as possible.” 

“ All this is very well, certainly ; and by means of the 
frigates and smaller cruisers we can easily sweep a hundred 
and fifty miles of ocean ; — nevertheless, the fleet will be much 
scattered.” 

You do not think there will be any danger of the French’s 
engaging the van, before the rear can close to aid it ?” asked 
Sir Gervaise, with interest, for he had the profoundest respect 
for his friend’s professional opinions. “ I intended to lead out 
in the Plantagenet, myself, and to have five or six of the fast- 
est ships next to me, with a view that we might keep off, until 
you could bring up the rear. If they chase, you know we can 
retire.” 

“ Beyond a doubt, if Sir Gervaise Oakes can make up his 
mind to retire, before any Frenchman who was ever born,” 
returned Bluewater, laughing. “ All this sounds well ; but, 
in the event of a meeting, I should expect to find you, with the 
whole van dismasted, fighting your hulks like bull-dogs, and 
keeping the Count at bay, leaving the glory of covering your 
retreat to me.” 

“ No — no — Dick: I’ll give you my honour I’ll do nothing 
so boyish and silly. I’m a different man at fifty-five, from 
what I was at twenty-five. You may be certain that I will run, 
until I think myself strong enough to fight.” 

“ Will you allow me to make a suggestion. Admiral Oakes ; 
and this with all the frankness that ought to characterize our 
ancient friendship ?” 

Sir G ervaise stopped short in his walk, looked Bluewater 
steadily in the face, and nodded his head. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


289 


“ I understand by the expression of your countenance,” 
continued the other, “ that I am expected to speak. I had no 
more to say, than to make the simple suggestion that your plan 
would be most likely to be executed, were I to lead the van, 
and were you to bring up the rear.” 

“ The devil you do ! — This comes as near mutiny — or 
scandalum ma^natum — as one can wish ! And why do you 
suppose that the plan of the commander-in-chief will be least 
in danger of failing, if Admiral Blue water lead on this occasion, 
instead of Admiral Oakes ?” 

“ Merely because I think Admiral Oakes, when an enemy 
is pressing him, is more apt to take counsel of his heart than 
of his head; while Admiral Blue water not. You do not 
know yourself. Sir Jarvy, if you think it so easy a matter to 
run away.” 

“ I’ve spoiled you, Dick, by praising your foolish manoeu- 
vring so much before your face, and that’s the whole truth of 
the matter. No — my mind is made up ; and, I believe you 
know me well enough to feel sure, when that is the case, even 
a council of war could not move it. I lead out, in the ji:rs,t 
two-decked ship that lifts her anchor, and you follow in the 
la^t. You understand my plan, and will see it executed, as 
you see every thing executed, in face of the enemy.” 

Admiral Bluewater smiled, and not altogether without irony 
in his manner ; though he managed, at the same time, to get 
the leg that had been lowest for the last five minutes, raised 
by an ingenuity peculiar to himself, several inches above its 
fellow. 

“ Nature never made you for a conspirator, Oakes,” he 
said, as soon as this change was effected to his mind ; “ for you 
carry a top-light in your breast that even the blind can see !” 

“ What crotchet is uppermost in your mind, now, Dick ? 
Ar’n’t the orders plain enough to suit you ?” 

25 


290 


T II M T W O ADMIRALS. 


“ I confess it ; — as well as the motive for giving them just 
in this form.” 

“ Let’s have it, at once. I prefer a full broadside to your 
minute-guns. What is my motive ?” 

“ Simply that you, Sir Jarvy, say to a certain Sir Gervaise 
Oakes, Bart., Vice-Admiral of the Bed, and Member for Bowl- 
dero, in your own mind, ‘ now, if I can just leave that fellow, 
Dick Bluewater, behind me, with four or five ships, he’ll never 
desert me, when in front of the enemy, whatever he might do 
with King George : and so I’ll make sure of him by placing 
the question in such a light that it shall be one of friendship, 
rather than one of loyalty.’ ” 

Sir Gervaise coloured to the temples, for the other had pen- 
etrated into his most secret thoughts ; and, yet, spite of his mo- 
mentary vexation, he faced his accuser, and both laughed in 
the heart-felt manner that the circumstance would be likely to 
excite. 

“ Harkee, Dick,” said the vice-admiral, as soon as he 
could command sufficient gravity to speak ; “ they made a 
mistake when they sent you to sea ; you ought to have been 
apprenticed to a conjuror. I care not what you think about 
it ; my orders are given, and they must be obeyed. Have you 
a clear perception of the plan ?” 

“One quite as clear, I tell you, as I have of the motive.’’ 

“ Enough of this, Bluewater ; we have serious duties be- 
fore us.” 

Sir Gervaise now entered more at length into his scheme ; 
explaining to his friend all his wishes and hopes, and letting 
him know, with official minuteness, what was expected at his 
hands. The rear-admiral listened with his accustomed re- 
spect, whenever any thing grave was in discussion between 
them ; and, had any one entered while they were thus en- 
gaged, he would have seen in the manner of one, nothing 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


291 


but the dignified frankness of a friendly superior, and in the 
other the deference which the naval inferior usually pays to 
rank. As he concluded Sir Gervaise rang his bell, and de- 
sired the presence of Sir Wycherly Wychecornbe. 

“ I could have wished to remain and see this battle for 
the succession fairly fought,” he said ; “ but a battle of a 
different sort calls us in another quarter. Show him in,” he 
added, as his man intimated that the young baronet was in 
waiting. 

“ What between the duties of our professional stations, and 
those of the guest to the host,” said the vice-admiral, rising 
and bowing to the young man ; “it is not easy to settle the 
question of etiquette between us. Sir Wycherly ; and I have, 
from habit, thought more of the admiral and the lieutenant, 
than of the lord of the manor and his obliged guests. If I 
have erred, you will excuse me.” 

“ My new situation is so very novel, that I still remain all 
sailor. Sir Gervaise,” answered the other, smiling ; “as such 
I hope you will ever consider me. Can I be of any service, 
here ?” 

“ One of our cutters has just come in wdth news that will 
take the fleet to sea, again, this morning ; or, as soon as the 
tide begins to run a strong ebb. The French are out, and we 
must go and look for them. It was my intention and my hope, 
to be able to take you to sea with me in the Plantagenet. The 
date of your commission would not put you very high among 
her lieutenants ; but. Bunting deserves a first lieutenancy, and 
I meant to give it to him this afternoon, in which case there 
would be a vacancy in the situation of my own signal-officer, 
a duty you could well perform. As it is, you ought not to 
quit this house, and I must take my leave of you with regret 
it is so.” 

“ Admiral Oakes, what is there that ought to keep one of 


292 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


my station ashore, on the eve of a general battle ? I sincerely 
hope and trust you will alter the last determination, and return 
to the first.” 

“You forget your own important interests — remember that 
possession is nine points of the law.” 

“ We had heard the news below, and Sir Reginald, Mr. 
Furlong, and myself, were discussing the matter when I re* 
ceived your summons. These gentlemen tell me, that pos- 
session can be held by deputy, as well as in person. I ara 
satisfied we can dispose of this objection.” 

“ Your grandfather’s brother, and the late head of youi 
family, lies dead in this house ; it is proper his successor 
should be present at his funeral obsequies.” 

“We thought of that, also. Sir Reginald has kindly of- 
fered to appear in my place ; and, then, there is the chance 
that the meeting with Monsieur de Vervillin will take place 
within the next eight-and-forty hours ; whereas my uncle can- 
not be interred certainly for a week or ten days.” 

“ I see you have M^ell calculated all the chances, young 
sir,” said Sir Gervaise, smiling. “ Bluewater, how does this 
matter strike you ?” 

“ Leave it in my hands, and I will see to it. You will sail 
near or quite twenty-four hours before me, and there will be 
time for more reflection. Sir Wycherly can remain with me 
in the Caesar, in the action ; or he can be thrown aboard the 
Plantagenet, when we meet.” 

After a little reflection, Sir Gervaise, who liked to give 
every one a fair chance, consented to the arrangement, and it 
was decided that Wycherley should come out in the Caesar, if 
nothing occurred to render the step improper. 

This arrangement completed, the vice-admiral declared he 
was ready to quit the Hall. Galleygo and the other servants 
had already made the dispositions necessary for embarking, and 


THE TWO A D M 1 It A L S . 


293 


it only remained to take .eave of the inmates of the dwelling. 
The parting between the baronets was friendly ; for the com- 
mon interest they felt in the success of Wycherly, had, in a 
degree, rendered them intimates, and much disposed Sir Regi- 
nald to overlook the sailor’s well-known Whiggery. Dutton 
and the ladies took their departure at the same time, and what 
passed between them and Sir Gervaise on this occasion, took 
place on the road to the head-land, whither all parties pro- 
ceeded on foot. 

A person so important as Sir Gervaise Oakes did not leave 
the roof that had sheltered him, to embark on board his own 
ship, without a due escort to the shore. Bluewater accompa- 
nied him, in order to discuss any little point of duty that might 
occur to the mind of either, at the last moment ; and Wych- 
erly Avas of the group, partly from professional feeling, and 
more from a desire to be near Mildred, Then there were At- 
wood, and the surgeons, Mr. Rotherham, and two or three of 
the cabin attendants. Lord Geoffrey, too, strolled along with 
the rest, though it was understood that his own ship would not 
sail that day. 

Just as the party issued from the gate of the park into the 
street of the hamlet, a heavy gun was fired from the fleet. It 
was soon succeeded by others, and whiffs and cornets were 
seen flying from the mast-heads that rose above the openings 
in the cliffs, the signals of recall for all boats. This set every 
one in motion, and, never within the memory of man, had 
Wychecombe presented such a scene of confusion and activity. 
Half-intoxicated seamen were driven down to the boats, by 
youngsters with the cloth diamond in their collars, like swine, 
who were reluctant to go, and yet afraid to stay. (Quarters 
of beeves were trundled along in carts or barrows, and Avere 
soon seen swinging at different main-stays ; Avhile the gather- 
ing of eggs, butter, poultry, mutton, lamb, and veal, menaced 

25 * 


294 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


the surrounding country with a scarcity. Through this throng 
of the living and the dead, our party held its way, jostled by 
the eager countrymen, and respectfully avoided by all who 
belonged to the fleet, until it reached the point where the roads 
to the cliffs and the landing separated, when the vice-admiral 
turned to the only midshipman present, and courteously lifting 
his hat, as if reluctant to impose such a duty on a “ young 
gentleman” on liberty, he said — 

“Do me the favour. Lord Geoffrey, to step down to the 
landing and ascertain if my barge is there. The officer of the 
boat will find me at the signal-station.” 

The boy cheerfully complied ; and this son of an English 
duke, who, by the death of an elder brother, became in time 
a duke himself, went on a service ' that among gentlemen of 
the land would be deemed nearly menial, with as much alacri- 
ty as if he felt honoured by the request. It was by a training 
like this, that England came, in time, to possess a marine that 
has achieved so many memorable deeds ; since it taught those 
who were destined to command, the high and useful lesson how 
to obey. 

While the midshipman was gone to look for the boat, the 
two admirals walked the cliff, side by side, discussing their 
future movements ; and when all was ready, Sir Gervaise 
descended to the shore, using the very path by which he had 
ascended the previous day ; and, pushing through the throng 
that crowded the landing, almost too' much engaged to heed 
even his approach, he entered his barge. In another minute, 
the measured strokes of the oars urged him swiftly towards the 
Plantagenet. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


“Twas not without some reason, for the wind 
Increased at night, until it blew a gale ; 

And though ’twas not much to a naval mind, 

Some landsmen would have look’d a little pale, 
For sailors are, in fact, a different kind ; 

At sunset they began to take in sail. 

For the sky show’d it would come on to blow, 

And carry away, perhaps, a mast or so.” 

Byron. 


As it was just past the turn of the day, Blue water deter- 
mined to linger on the cliffs for several hours, or until it was 
time to think of his dinner. Abstracted as his thoughts were 
habitually, his mind found occupation and pleasure in witness- 
ing the evolutions that succeeded among the ships ; some of 
which evolutions it may be well now brieffy to relate. 

Sir Gervaise Oake s’ foot had not been on the deck of the 
Plantagenet five minutes, before a signal for all commanders 
was fiying at that vessel’s mast-head. In ten minutes more 
every captain of the fieet, with the exception of those belong- 
ing to the vessels in the offing, were in the flag-ship’s cabin, 
listening to the intentions and instructions of the vice-admiral. 

“ My plan of sailing, gentlemen, is easily comprehended,” 
continued the commander-in-chief, after he had explained his 
general intentions to chase and engage ; “ and every one of 
you will implicitly follow it. We have the tide strong at ebb, 
and a good six-knot breeze is coming up at south-west. I shall 
weigh, with my yards square, and keep them so, until the ship 
has drawn out of the fieet, and then I shall luff up on a taut 
bowline and on the starboard tack, bringing the ebb well un- 


290 


THE TWO admirals. 


der my lee*bow. This will hawse the ship over towards 
Morlaix, and bringing us quite as far to windward as is desi- 
rable. While the ebb lasts, and this breeze stands, we shall 
have plain sailing ; the difficulty will come on the flood, or 
with a shift of wind. The ships that come out last must be 
careful to keep their seconds, ahead and astern, in plain sight, 
and regulate their movements, as much as they can, by the 
leading vessels. The object is to spread as wide a clew as 
possible, while we hold the ships within signal-distance of each 
other. Towards sunset I shall shorten sail, and the line will 
close up within a league from vessel to vessel, and I have told 
Bluewater to use his discretion about coming out with the 
last ships, though I have requested him to hold on as long as 
he shall deem it prudent, in the hope of receiving another ex- 
press from the Admiralty. When the flood makes, I do not 
intend to go about, but shall continue on the starboard tack, 
and I wish you all to do the same. This will bring the lead- 
ing vessels considerably to windward of those astern, and may 
possibly throw the fleet into a bow and quarter line. Being 
in the van, it will fall to my duty to look to this, and to watch 
for the consequences. But I ask of you to keep an eye on the 
weather, and to hold your ships within plain signal-distance of 
each other. If it come on thick, or to blow very hard, we 
must close, from van to rear, and try our luck, in a search in 
compact order. Let the man who first sees the enemy make 
himself heard at once, and send the news, with the bearings of 
the French, both ahead and astern, as fast as possible. In 
that case you will all close on the point from which the intel- 
ligence comes ; and, mark me, no cruising to get to windward, 
in your own fashions, as if you sailed with roving commissions. 
You know I’ll not stand that. And now, gentlemen, it is 
probable that we shall all never meet again. God bless you ! 
Come and shake hands with me, one by one, and then to youi 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


29Y 


boats, for the first lieutenant has just sent Greenly word that 
we are up and down. Let him trip, Greenly, and be off as 
soon as we can.” 

The leave-taking-, a scene in which joyousness and sad- 
ness were strangely mingled, succeeded, and then the cap- 
tains disappeared. From that moment every mind was bent 
on sailing. 

Although Bluewater did not witness the scene in the Plan- 
tagenet’s cabin, he pictured it, in his mind’s eye, and remained 
on the cliffs to watch the succeeding movements. As Wych- 
erly had disappeared in the house, and Dutton clung to his 
flag-staff, the rear-admiral had no one but Lord Geoffrey for a 
companion. The latter, perceiving that his relation did not 
seem disposed to converse, had the tact to be silent himself ; a 
task that was less difficult than common, on account of the 
interest he felt in the spectacle. 

The boats of the different captains were still shoving off 
from the starboard side of the Plantagenet, whither etiquette 
had brought them together, in a little crowd, when her three 
topsails fell, and their sheets steadily drew the clews towards 
the ends of the lower yards. Even while this was in process, 
the yards began to ascend, and rose with that steady but 
graduated movement which marks the operation in a man-of- 
war. All three were fairly mast-headed in two minutes. As 
the wind struck the canvass obliquely, the sails filled as they 
opened their folds, and, by the time their surfaces were flat- 
tened by distension, the Plantagenet steadily moved from her 
late berth, advancing slowly against a strong tide, out of the 
group of ships, among which she had been anchored. This 
was a beautiful evolution, resembling that of a sea-fowl, 
which lazily rises on its element, spreals its wings, emerges 
from the water, and glides awa) to som> distant and unseen 
point. 


298 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


The movement of the flag-ship was stately, measured, 
and grand. For five minutes she held her way nearly duo 
east, with the wind on her starboard quarter, meeting the tide 
in a direct line ; until, having drawn sufficiently ahead of 
the fleet, she let fall her courses, sheeted home topgallant- 
sails and royals, set her spanker, jibs, and staysails, and braced 
lip sharp on a wind, with her head at south-southeast. This 
brought the tide well under her lee fore-chains, and set her 
rapidly off the land, and to windward. As she trimmed 
her sails, and steadied her bowlines, she fired a gun, made 
the numbers of the vessels in the offlns: to weigh, and to pass 
within hail. All this did Blue water note, with the attention 
of an amateur, as well as with the critical analysis of a con- 
noisseur. 

“ Very handsomely done. Master Geoffrey — very hand- 
somely done, it must be allowed ! never did a bird quit a flock 
with less fuss, or more beautifully, than the Plantagenet 
has drawn out of the fleet. It must be admitted that 
Greenly knows how to handle his ship.” 

“ I fancy Captain Stowel would have done quite as well 
with the Caesar, sir,” answered the boy, with a proper esprit- 
^e-ship. “ Don’t you remember, Admiral Bluewater, the time 
when we got under way off 1’ Orient, with the wind blowing a 
gale directly on shore ? Even Sir Gervaise said, afterwards, 
that we lost less ground than any ship in the fleet, and yet the 
Plantagenet is the most weatherly two-decker in the navy ; as 
every body says.” 

“Every body ! — She is certainly a weatherly vessel, but not 
more so than several others. Whom did you ever hear give 
that character to this particular ship ?” 

“ Why, sir, her reefers are always bragging as much as 
that ; and a great deal more, too.” 

“ Her reefers ! — Young gentlemen are particularly struck 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


299 


with the charms of their first loves, both ashore and afloat, my 
boy. Did you ever hear an old seaman say that much for the 
Plantagenet ?” 

“ I think I have, sir,” returned Lord Geoffrey, blushing. 
‘‘Galleygo, Sir Gervaise’s steward, is commonly repeating 
some such stuff, or other. They are furious braggarts, the 
Planta genet’s, all round, sir.” 

“ That comes honestly,” answered Bluewater, smiling, “ her 
namesakes and predecessors of old, having some such charac- 
teristic, too. Look at that ship’s yards, boy, and learn how to 
trim a vessel’s sails on a wind. The pencil of a painter could 
not draw lines more accurate !” 

“ Captain Stowel tells us, sir, that the yards ought not to 
be braced in exactly alike ; but that we ought to check the 
weather-braces, a little, as we go aloft, so that the topsail 
yard should point a little less forward than the lower yard, and 
the topgallant than the topsail.” 

“ You are quite right in taking Stowefs opinion in all such 
matters, Geoffrey : but has not Captain Greenly done the same 
thing in the Plantagenet ? When I speak of symmetry, I mean 
the symmetry of a seaman.” 

The boy was silenced, though exceedingly reluctant to ad- 
mit that any ship could equal his own. In the mean time, 
there was every appearance of a change in the weather. Just 
about the time the Plantagenet braced up, the wind freshened, 
and in ten minutes it blew a stiff breeze. Some time before 
the admiral spoke the vessels outside, he was compelled to 
take in all his light canvass ; and when he filled, again, after 
giving his orders to the frigate and sloop, the topgallant sheets 
were let fly, a single reef was taken in the topsails, and the 
lighter sails were set over them. This change in the weather, 
more especially as the night threatened to be clouded, if not 
absolutely dark, would necessarily bring about a corresponding 


300 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


change in the plan of sailing, reducing the intervals between 
the departures of the vessels, quite one-half. To such vicissi- 
tudes are all maritime operations liable, and it is fortunate 
when there is sufficient capacity in the leaders to remedy them. 

In less than an hour, the Plantagenet’s hull began to sink, 
to those on a level with it, when the Carnatic tripped her 
anchor, opened her canvass, shot out o.'’ the fleet, hauled by 
the wind, and followed in the admiral’s wake. So accurate 
w'as the course she steered, that, half an hour after she had 
braced up, a hawse-bucket, which had been dropped from the 
Plantagenet in hauling water, was picked up. We may add, 
here, though it will be a little anticipating events, that the 
Thunderer followed the Carnatic ; the Blenheim the Thun- 
derer ; the Achilles the Blenheim ; the Warspite the Achilles ; 
the Dover the Warspite ; the York the Dover; the Elizabeth 
the York ; the Dublin the Elizabeth ; and the CcBsar the 
Dublin. But hours passed before all these ships were in 
motion, and hours in which we shall have some occurrences to 
relate that took place on shore. Still it will aid the reader in 
better understanding the future incidents of our tale, if we de- 
scribe, at once, some of the circumstances under which all 
these ships got in motion. 

By the time the Plantagenet’s topsails were beginning to 
dip from the clifls, the Carnatic, the Thunderer, the Blenheim, 
the Achilles, and the Warspite were all stretching out in line, 
with intervals of quite two leagues between them, under as 
much canvass as they could now bear. The admiral had 
shortened sail the most, and was evidently allowing the Carnatic 
to close, most probably on account of the threatening look of 
the sky, to windward ; while he was suffering the frigate and 
sloop, the Chloe and Driver, to pass ahead of him, the one on 
his weather, and the other on his lee bow. When the Dover 
weighed, the admiral’s upper sail was not visible fro n her tops, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


301 


though the Warspite’s hull had not yet disappeared from her 
deck. She left the fleet, or the portions of it that still re- 
mained at anchor, with her fore-course set, and hauled by the 
wind, under double-reefed topsails, a single reef in her mainsail, 
and wdth her main-topgallant sail set over its proper sail. With 
this reduced canvass, she started away on the track of her 
consorts, the brine foaming under her bows, and with a heel 
that denoted the heavy pressure that bore on her sails. By 
this time, the York was aw^eigh, the tide had turned, and it 
l^ecame necessary to fill on the other tack in order to clear the 
land to the eastward. This altered the formation, but we will 
now revert to the events as they transpired on the shore, with 
a view to relate them more in their regular order. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that Bluewater must have 
remained on, or about the cliffs several hours, in order to 
witness the departure of so many of the vessels. Instead of 
returning to the Hall at the dinner hour, agreeably to promise, 
he profited by the appearance of Wycherly, who left the 
cottage wdth a flushed, agitated manner, just as he was think- 
ing of the necessity of sending a message to Sir Reginald, and 
begged the young man to be the bearer of his excuses. He 
thought that the change in the weather rendered it necessary 
for him to remain in sight of the sea. Dutton overheard this 
message, and, after a private conference with his wdfe, he 
ventured to invite his superior to appease his appetite under 
his own humble roof. To this Bluewater cheerfully assented ; 
and when the summons came to the table, to his great joy he 
found that his only companion was to be Mildred, who, like 
himself, for some reason known only to her own bosom, had 
let the ordinary dining hour pass without appearing at table, 
but whom her mother had now directed to take some sus- 
tenance. 

“ The late events at the Hall have agitated the poor child, 
S6 


302 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


sir,” said Mrs. Dutton, in the way of apology, “ and she has 
not tasted food since morning. I have told her you would 
excuse the intrusion, and receive her carving and attentions 
as an excuse for her company.” 

Bluewater looked at the pallid countenance of the girl, and 
never before had he found the resemblance to Agnes Hed worth 
so strong, as that moment. The last year or two of his own 
sweet friend’s life had been far from happy, and the languid 
look and tearful eyes of Mildred revived the recollection of the 
dead wdth painful distinctness. 

“ Good God I” he murmured to himself; “ that two such 
beings should exist only to suffer ! my good Mrs. Dutton, make 
no excuses ; but believe me when I say that you could not 
have found in England another that would have proved as 
welcome as my present little messmate.” 

Mildred struggled for a smile ; and she did succeed in 
looking extremely grateful. Beyond this, however, it exceeded 
her powers to go. Mrs. Dutton was gratified, and soon left 
the two to partake of their neat, but simple meal, by them- 
selves ; household duties requiring her presence elsewhere. 

“ Let me persuade you to take a glass of this really excellent 
port, my child,” said Bluewater. “ If you had cruised as long 
as I have done, on the coast of Portugal, you would know how 
to value a liquor as pure as this. I don’t know of an admiral 
that has as good !” 

“ It is probably our last, sir,” answered Mildred, shaking 
a tear from each of her long dark lashes, by an involuntarily 
trembling motion, as she spoke. “ It w^as a present from dear, 
old. Sir Wycherly, who never left my mother wholly unsup- 
plied with such plain delicacies, as he fancied poverty placed 
beyond our reach. The wine we can easily forget; not so 
easily the donor.” 

Bluewater felt as if he could draw a cheque for one-half 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


303 


the fortune he had devised to his companion ; and, yet, by a 
caprice of feeling that is not uncommon to persons of the live- 
liest susceptibility, he answered in a way to smother his own 
emotion. 

“ There will not soon be another old Sir Wycherly to make 
his neighbours comfortable ; but there is a young one, who is 
not likely to forget his uncle’s good example. I hope you all 
here, rejoice at the sudden rise in fortune, that has so unex- 
pectedly been placed within the reach of our favourite lieu- 
tenant ?” 

A look of anguish passed over Mildred’s face, and her 
companion noted it ; though surprise and pity — not to say 
resentment — prevented his betraying his discovery. 

We endeavour to be glad, sir,” answered Mildred, smiling 
in so suffering a manner, as to awaken all her compan- 
ion’s sympathies ; “ but it is not easy for us to rejoice at 
any thing which is gained by the loss of our former valued 
friend.” 

“ I am aware that a young fellow, like the present Sir 
Wycherly, can be no substitute for an old fellow like the last 
Sir Wycherly, my dear ; but as one is a sailor, and the other 
was only a landsman, my professional prejudices may not con- 
sider the disparity as great as it may possibly appear to be to 
your less partial judgment.” 

Bluewater thought the glance he received w^as imploring 
and he instantly regretted that he had taken such means to 
divert his companion’s sadness. Some consciousness of this 
regret probably passed through Mildred’s mind, for she rallied 
her spirits, and made a partially successful effort to be a more 
agreeable companion. 

My father thinks, sir,” she said, “ that our late pleasant 
weather is about to desert us, and that it is likely to blow 
heavily before six-aiid- thirty hours are over.” 


304 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ I am afraid Mr. Dutton will prove to be too accurate an 
almanac. The weather has a breeding look, and I expect a 
dirty night. Good or bad, we seamen must face it, and that, 
too, in the narrow seas, where gales of wind are no gales of 
Araby.” 

“ Ah, sir, it is a terrible life to lead ! By living on this 
cliff, I have learned to pity sailors.” 

“ Perhaps, my child, you pity us when we are the most 
happy. Nine seamen in ten prefer a respectable gale to a flat 
calm. There are moments when the ocean is terrific ; but, 
on the whole, it is capricious, rather than malignant. The 
night that is before us promises to be just such a one as Sir 
Gervaise Oakes delights in. He is never happier than when 
he hears a gale howling through the cordage of his ship.” 

“ I have heard him spoken of as a very daring and self- 
relying commander. But you cannot entertain such feelings. 
Admiral Blue water ; for to me you seem better fitted for a 
fireside, well filled with friends and relatives, than for the con- 
flicts and hardships of the sea.” 

Mildred had no difficulty now in forcing a smile, for the 
sweet one she bestowed on the veteran almost tempted him to 
rise and fold her in his arms, as a parent would wrap a beloved 
daughter to his heart. Discretion, however, prevented a be- 
trayal of feelings that might have been misinterpreted, and ho 
answered in his original vein. 

“ I fear I am a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” he said ; “ while 
Oakes admits the happiness he feels in seeing his ship plough- 
ing through a raging sea, in a dark night, he maintains that 
my rapture is sought in a hurricane. I do not plead guilty to 
the accusation, but I will allow there is a sort of fierce delight 
in participating, as it might be, in a wild strife of the elements. 
To me, my very nature seems changed at such moments, and 
1 forget all that is mild and gentle. That comes of having 


THE TWO A D M I K A L S . 


305 


lived so much estranged from your sex, my dear ; desolate 
bachelor, as I am.” 

“Do you think sailors ought to marry?" asked Mildred, 
with a steadiness that surprised herself ; for, while she put the 
question, consciousness brought the blood to her temples. 

“ I should be sorry to condemn a whole profession, and that 
one I so well love, to the hopeless misery of single life. There 
are miseries peculiar to the wedded lives of both soldiers and 
sailors ; but are there not miseries peculiar to those who never 
separate ? I have heard seamen say — men, too, who loved 
their wives and families — that they believed the extreme plea 
sure of meetings after long separations, the delights of hope, 
and the zest of excited feelings, have rendered their years of 
active service more replete with agreeable sensations, than the 
stagnant periods of peace. Never having been married my- 
self, I can only speak on report.” 

“ Ah ! this may be so with men ; but — surely — surely — 
tvomen never can feel thus !” 

“I suppose, a sailor’s daughter yourself, you know Jack’s 
account of his wife’s domestic creed I ‘ A good fire, a clean 
hearth, the children abed, and the husband at sea,’ is supposed 
to be the climax of felicity.” 

“ This may do for the sailor’s jokes. Admiral Bluewater,” 
answered Mildred, smiling ; “ but it will hardly ease a break- 
ing heart. I fear from all I have heard this afternoon, and 
from the sudden sailing of the ships, that a great battle is at 
hand ?” 

“ And why should you, a British officer’s daughter, dread 
that ? Have you so little faith in us, as to suppose a battle 
will necessarily bring defeat ! I have seen much of my own 
profession. Miss Dutton, and trust I am in some small degree 
above the rhodomontade of the braggarts ; but it is not usual 
for us to meet the enemy, and to give those on shore reason to 

36 * 


306 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


be ashamed of the English flag. It has never yet been my 
luck to meet a Frenchman who did not manifest a manly de- 
sire to do his country credit ; and I have always felt that we 
must fight hard for him before we could get him ; nor has the 
result ever disappointed me. Still, fortune, or skill, or rights is 
commonly of our side, and has given us the advantage in the 
end.” 

• “ And to which, sir, do you ascribe a success at sea, so very 
uniform ?” 

“ As a Protestant, I ought to say to our religion ; but, this 
my own knowledge of Protestant ?;^ces rejects. Then to say 
fortune would be an exceeding self-abasement — one, that be- 
tween us, is not needed ; and I believe I must impute it to 
skill. As plain seamen, I do believe we are more expert than 
most of our neighbours ; though I am far from being positive 
we have any great advantage over them in tactics. If any, 
the Dutch are our equals.” 

“ Notwithstanding, you are quite certain of success. It 
must be a great encouragement to enter into the fight with a 
strong confidence in victory ! I suppose — that is, it seems to 
me — it is a matter of course, sir, — that our new Sir Wycherly 
will not be able to join in the battle, this time ?” 

Mildred spoke timidly, and she endeavoured to seem uncon- 
cerned ; but Bluewater read her whole heart, and pitied the 
pain which she had inflicted on herself, in asking the question. 
It struck him, too, that a girl of his companion’s delicacy and 
sensibility would not thus advert to the young man’s move- 
ments at all, if the latter had done aught justly to awaken cen- 
sure ; and this conviction greatly relieved his mind as to the 
effect of sudden elevation on the handsome lieutenant. As it 
was necessary to answer, however, lest Mildred might detect 
his consciousness of her feelings, not a moment was lost before 
making a reply. 


r II E 


TWO ADMIRALS. 


307 


“ It is not an easy matter to prevent a young, dashing 
sailor, like this Sir Wycherly Wychecornhe, from doing his part 
in a general engagement, and that, too, of the character of the 
one to which we are looking forward,” he said. “ Oakes has 
left the matter in my hands ; I suppose I shall have to grant 
the young man’s request.” 

“ He has then requested to be received in your ship ?” 
asked Mildred, her hand shaking as she used the spoon it held. 

“ That of course. No one who wears the uniform could or 
would do less. It seems a ticklish moment for him to quit 
Wychecornhe, too ; where I fancy he will have a battle of his 
own to fight ere long ; but professional feeling will overshadow 
all others, in young men. Among us seamen, it is said to be 
even stronger than love.” 

Mildred made no answer ; but her pale cheek and quivering 
lips, evidences of feeling that her artlessness did not enable her 
to conceal, caused Bluewater again to regret the remark. 
With a view to restore the poor girl to her self command, he 
changed the subject of conversation, which did not again 
advert to Wycherly. The remainder of the meal was conse- 
quently eaten in peace, the admiral manifesting to the last, 
however, the sudden and generous interest he had taken in the 
character and welfare of his companion. When they rose 
from table, Mildred joined her mother, and Bluewater walked 
out upon the cliffs again. 

It was now evening, and the waste of water that lay 
stretched before the eye, though the softness of summer was 
shed upon it, had the wild and dreary aspect that the winds 
and waves lend to a view, as the light of day is about to 
abandon the ocean to the gloom of night. All this had no 
effect on Bluewater, however, who knew that two-decked 
ships, strongly manned, with their heavy canvass reduced, 
would make light work of worrying through hours of darkness 


308 T H E TWO ADMIRALS. 

that menaced no more than these. Still the wind had fresh 
ened, and when he stood on the verge of the cliff, sustained by 
the breeze, which pressed him back from the precipice, render- 
ing his head more steady, and his footing sure, the Elizabeth 
was casting, under close-reefed topsails, and two reefs in her 
courses, with a heavy stay-sail or two, to ease her helm. He 
saw that the ponderous machine would stagger under even 
this short canvass, and that her captain had made his disposi- 
tions for a windy night. The lights that the Dover and the 
York carried in their tops were just beginning to be visible in 
the gathering gloom, the last about a league and a half down 
channel, the ship standing in that direction to get to wind- 
ward, and the former, more to the southward, the vessel hav- 
ing already tacked to follow the admiral. A chain of lights 
connected the whole of the long line, and placed the means of 
communication in the power of the captains. At this moment* 
the Plantagenet was full fifty miles at sea, ploughing through 
a heavy south-west swell, which the wind was driving into 
the chops of the channel, from the direction of the Bay of 
Biscay, and the broad Atlantic. 

Bluewater buttoned his coat, and he felt his frame invigo- 
rated by a gale that came over his person, loaded by the pecu- 
liar flavour of the sea. But two of the heavy ships remained 
at their anchors, the Dublin and the CsBsar ; and his expe- 
rienced eye could see that Stowel had every thing on board the 
latter ready to trip and be off, as soon as he, himself, should 
give the order. At this moment the midshipman, who had 
been absent for hours, returned, and stood again at his 
side. 

“ Our turn will soon come, sir,” said the gallant boy, “ and, 
for one, I shall not be sorry to be in motion. Those chaps on 
board the Plantagenet will swagger like so many Dons, if they 
should happen to get a broadside at Monsieur de Vervillin, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


309 


while we are lying here, under the shore, like a gentleman’s 
yacht hauled into a bay, that the ladies might eat without 
disturbing their stomachs.” 

“ Little fear of that, Geoffrey. The Active is too light of 
foot, especially in the weather we have had, to suffer heavy 
ships to be so close on her heels. She must have had some 
fifteen or twenty miles the start, and the French have been 
compelled to double Cape la Hogue and Alderney, before they 
could even look this way. If coming down channel at all, 
they are fully fifty miles to the eastward ; and should our van 
stretch far enough by morning to head them ofii it will bring 
us handsomely to windward. Sir Gervaise never set a better 
trap, than he has done this very day. The Elizabeth has her 
hands full, boy, and the wind seems to be getting scant for her. 
If it knock her off much more, it will bring the flood on her 
weather-bow, and compel her to tack. This will throw the 
rear of our line into confusion !” 

“ What should we do, sir, in such a case ? It would 
never answer to leave poor Sir Jarvy out there, by himself !” 

“We w^ould try not to do that!'' returned Bluewater, 
smiling at the affectionate solicitude of the lad, a solicitude 
that caused him slightly to forget his habitual respect for the 
commander-in-chief, and to adopt the sobriquet of the fleet. 
“ In such a case, it would become my duty to collect as many 
ships as I could, and to make the best of our way towards the 
place where we might hope to fall in with the others, in the 
morning. There is little danger of losing each other, for any 
length of time, in these narrow w^aters, and I have few appre- 
hensions of the French being far enough west, to fall in with 
our leading vessels before morning. If they should^ indeed, 
Geoffrey—” 

“ Ay, sir, if they should, I know well enough what would 
come to pass !” 


310 


T UK TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ What, boy ? — On the supposition that Monsieur de Ver 
villin did meet with Sir Gervaise by day-break, what, in 
your experienced eyes, seem most likely to be the conse- 
quences ?” 

“ Why, sir. Sir Jarvy, would go at ’em, like a dolphin at 
a flying-fish ; and if he should really happen to catch one or 
two of ’em, there’d be no sailing in company with the Plan- 
tagenet’s, for us Caesar’s ! — When we had the last ’bout with 
Monsieur de Gravelin, they were as saucy as peacocks, be- 
cause we didn’t close until their fore-yard and mizzen-top- 
gallant-mast were gone, although the shift of wind brought 
us dead to leeward, and, after all, we had eleven men 
the most hurt in the fight. You don’t know them Plan- 
tagenet’s, sir ; for they never dare say any thing before 
you /” 

“ Not to the discredit of my young Caesars, I’ll answer for 
it. Yet, you’ll remember Sir Gervaise gave us full credit, in 
his despatches.” 

. “ Yes, sir, all very true. Sir Gervaise knows better ; and 
then he understands what the Caesar is ; and what she can 
do, and has done. But it’s a very different matter with hia 
youngsters, who fancy because they carry a red flag at the 
fore, they are so many Blakes and Howards, themselves. 
There’s Jack Oldcastle, now ; he’s always talking of our reef- 
ers as if there was no sea-blood in our veins, and that just 
because his own father happened to be a captain — a com- 
modore, he says, because he happened once to have three 
frigates under his orders.” 

“ Well, that would make a commodore, for the time being. 
But, surely he does not claim privilege for the Oldcastle blood, 
over that of the Clevelands !” 

“ No, sir, it isn’t that sort of thing, at all,” returned the 
fine boy, blushing a little, in spite of his contempt for any 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


311 


such womanly weakness ; “ you know we never talk of that 
nonsense in our squadron. With us it’s all service, and that 
sort of thing. Jack Oldcastle says the Clevelands are all civil- 
ians, as he calls ’em ; or soldiers, which isn’t much better, 
as you know, sir. Now, ' I tell him that there is an old 
picture of one of ’em, with an anchor-button, and that was 
long before Clueen Anne’s time — Q,ueen Elizabeth’s, perhaps, 
— and then you know, sir, I fetch him up with a yarn about 
the Hedworths ; for I am just as much Hedworth as Cleve- 
land.” 

“ And what does the impudent dog say to that, Geoffrey ?” 

“ Why, sir, he says the name should be spelt Med^diivork., 
and that they were all lawyers. But I gave him as good as 
he sent for that saucy speech. I’m certain !” 

“ And what did you give him, in return for such a compli- 
ment ? Did you tell him the Oldcastles were just so much 
stone, and wood, and old iron ; and that, too, in a tumble- 
down condition ?” 

“No, sir, not I,” answered the boy, laughing; “I didn’t 
think of any answer half so clever ; and so I just gave him a 
dig in the nose, and that, laid on with right good will.” 

“ And how did he receive that argument ? Was it conclu- 
sive ; — or did the debate continue ?” 

“ Oh, of course, sir, we fought it out. ’Twas on board the 
Dover, and the first lieutenant saw fair play. Jack carried 
too many guns for me, sir, for he’s more than a year older ; 
but I hulled him so often that he owned it was harder 
work than being mast-headed. After that the Dover’s chaps 
took my part, and they said the Hedworths had no Headtwr^ 
at all, but they were regular sailors ; admirals, and captains, 
and youngsters, you know, sir, like all the rest of us. I told 
’em my grandfather Hedworth was an admiral, and a good 
one, too.” 


312 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ III that you made a small mistake. Your mother’s father 
was only a general ; but his father was a full admiral of the 
red, — for he lived before that grade was abolished — and as 
good an officer as ever trod a plank. He was my mother’s 
brother, and both Sir Gervaise and myself served long under 
his orders. He was a sailor of whom you well might boast.” 

“ I don’t think any of the Plantagenets will chase in that 
quarter again, sir ; for we’ve had an overhauling among our 
chaps, and we find we can muster four admirals, two commo- 
dores, and thirteen captains in our two messes ; that is, count- 
ing all sorts of relatives, you know, sir.” 

“ Well, my dear boy, I hope you may live to reckon all 
that and more too, in your own persons, at some future day. 
Yonder is Sir Reginald Wychecombe, coming this way, to my 
surprise ; perhaps he wishes to see me alone. Go down to 
the landing and ascertain if my barge is ashore, and let me 
know it, as soon as is convenient. Remember, Geoffrey, you 
will go off with me ; and hunt up Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, 
who will lose his passage, unless ready the instant he is 
wanted.” 

The boy touched his cap, and went bounding down the hill 
to execute the order. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


‘‘So glozed the Tempter, and his poison tuned; 

Into the heart of Eve his words made way, 

Though at the voice much marvelling.” 

Milton. 

It was, probably, a species of presentiment, that induced 
Blue water to send away the midshipman, when he saw the 
adherent of the dethroned house approaching. Enough had 
passed between the parties to satisfy each of the secret bias of 
the other ; and, by that sort of free-masonry which generally 
accompanies strong feelings of partisanship, the admiral felt 
persuaded that the approaching interview was about to relate 
to the political troubles of the day. 

The season and the hour, and the spot, too, were all poet- 
ically favourable to an interview between conspirators. It was 
now nearly dark ; the head-land was deserted, Dutton having 
retired, first to his bottle, and then to his bed ; the wind blew 
heavily athwart the bleak eminence, or was heard scuffling in 
the caverns of the cliffs, while the portentous clouds that 
drove through the air, now veiled entirely, and now partially 
and dimly revealed the light of the moon, in a way to render 
the scene both exciting and wild. No wonder, then, that 
Bluewater, his visiter drawing near, felt a stronger disposition 
than had ever yet come over him to listen to the tale of the 
tempter, as, under all the circumstances, it would scarcely 
exceed the bounds of justice to call Sir Reginald. 

“ In seeking you at such a spot, and in the midst of this 


314 


T HE TWO ADMIRALS. 


wild landscape,” said the latter, “ I might have been assured 
I should be certain of finding one who really loved the sea and 
your noble profession. The Hall is a melancholy house, just 
at this moment ; and when I inquired for you, no one could 
say whither you had strolled. In following what I thought a 
seaman’s instinct, it appears that I did well. — Do my eyes 
fail me, or are there no more than three vessels at anchor 
yonder ?” 

“ Your eyes are still good. Sir Reginald ; Admiral Oakes 
sailed several hours since, and he has been followed by all 
the fleet, with the exception of the two line-of-battle ships, 
and the frigate you see ; leaving me to be the last to quit the 
anchorage.” 

“ Is it a secret of state, or are you permitted to say whither 
so strong a force has so suddenly sailed ?” demanded the baro- 
net, glancing his dark eye so expressively towards the other 
as to give him, in the growing obscurity, the appearance of an 
inquisitor. “ I had been told the fleet would wait for orders 
from London ?” 

“ Such w'as the first intention of the commander-in-chief ; 
but intelligence of the sailing of the Comte de Vervillin has 
induced Sir Gervaise to change his mind. An English admi- 
ral seldom errs when he seeks and beats an active and danger- 
ous enemy.” 

“ Is this always true. Admiral Blue water ?” returned Sir 
Reginald, dropping in at the side of the other, and joining in 
his walk, as he paced, to and fro, a short path that Dutton 
called his own quarter-deck ; “or is it merely an unmeaning 
generality that sometimes causes men to become the dupes of 
their own imaginations. Are those always our enemies who 
may seem to be so ? or, are we so infallible that every feeling 
or prejudice may be safely set down as an impulse to which 
we ought to submit, without questioning its authority ?” 


THE T AV O ADMIRALS. 


315 


“ Do you esteem it a prejudice to vieAV France as the 
natural enemy of England, Sir Reginald ?” 

“ By heaven, I do, sir ! I can conceive that England may 
be much more her own enemy than France has ever proved 
to he. Then, conceding that ages of warfare have contributed 
to awaken some sueh feeling as this you hint at, is there not 
a question of right and wrong that lies behind all ? Reflect 
how often England has invaded the French soil, and what 
serious injuries she has committed on the territory of the latter, 
while France has so little wronged us, in the same way ; how, 
even her throne has been occupied by our princes, and her 
provinces possessed by our armies.” 

“ I think you hardly alloAV for all the equity of the different 
cases. Parts of what is now France, were the just inheritance 
of those who have sat on the English throne, and the quarrels 
were no more than the usual difficulties of neighbourhood. 
When our claims were just in themselves, you surely could not 
have wished to see them abandoned.” 

“ Far from it ; hut when claims w'ere disputed, is it not 
natural for the loser to view them as a hardship ? I believe we 
should have had a much better neighbourhood, as you call it, 
with France, had not the modern difficulties connected wdth 
religious changes, occurred.” 

“ I presume you know. Sir Reginald, that I, and all my 
family are Protestants.” 

“I do. Admiral Blue water ; and I rejoice to find that a 
difference of opinion on this great interest, does not necessarily 
produce one on all others. From several little allusions that 
have passed between us to-day, I am encouraged to believe 
that we think alike on certain temporal matters, however wide 
the chasm between us on spiritual things.” 

“ I confess I have fallen into the same conclusion ; and I 
sliould be sorry to he undeceived if wrong.” 


316 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ What occasion, then, for farther ambiguity ? Surely two 
honourable men may safely trust each other with their com- 
mon sentiments, when the times call for decision and frank- 
ness ! I am a Jacobite, Admiral Blue water ; if I risk life or 
fortune by making the avowal, I place both, without reserve at 
your mercy.” 

“ They could not be in safer hands, sir; and I know no 
better mode of giving you every possible assurance that the 
confidence will not be abused, than by telling you in return, 
that I would cheerfully lay down my life could the sacrifice 
restore the deposed family to the throne,” 

“ This is noble, and manly, and frank, as I had hoped 
from a sailor !” exclaimed Sir Reginald, more delighted than 
he well knew how to express at the moment. “ This simple 
assurance from your lips, carries more weight than all the 
oaths and pledges of vulgar conspiracy. We understand each 
other, and I should be truly sorry to inspire less confidence 
than I feel.” 

“ What better proof can I give you of the reliance placed 
on your faith, than the declaration you have heard, Sir Regi- 
nald ? My head would answer for your treachery in a week ; 
but I have never felt it more securely on my shoulders than 
at this moment.” 

The baronet grasped the other’s hand, and each gave and 
received a pressure that was full of meaning. Then both 
walked on, thoughtful and relieved, for quite a minute, in 
profound silence. 

“ This sudden appearance of the prince in Scotland has 
taken us all a little by surprise,” Sir Reginald resumed, after 
the pause ; “ though a few of us knew that his intentions led 
him this way. Perhaps he has done well to come unat- 
tended by a foreign force, and to throw himself, as it might 
be singly, into the arms of his subjects ; trusting every thing 


THE TWO admirals. 


317 


to their generosity, loyalty, and courage. Some blame him ; 
but I do not. He will awaken interest, now, in every gen* 
erous heart in the nation,” — this was artfully adapted to the 
character of the listener ; — “ whereas some might feel dis- 
posed to be lukewarm under a less manly appeal to their afiec- 
tions and loyalty. In Scotland, we learn from all directions 
that His Royal Highness is doing wonders, while the friends 
of his house are full of activity in England, though compelled, 
for a time, to he watchful and prudent.” 

“ I re^'oice, from the bottom of my heart, to hear this !” 
said Bluew^ater, drawing a long breath, like one whose mind 
was unexpectedly relieved from a heavy load. “ From the 
bottom of my heart, do I rejoice ! I had my apprehensions 
that the sudden appearance of the prince might find his well- 
wishers unprepared and timid.” 

“ As far from that as possible, my dear sir ; though much 
still depends on the promptitude and resolution of the mas- 
ter spirits of the party. We are strong enough to control the 
nation, if we can bring those forward who have the strength 
to lead and control ourselves. All we now want are some 
hundred or two of prominent men to step out of their diffi- 
dence, and show us the way to honourable achievement and 
certain success.” 

“ Can such men be wanting, at a moment like this ?” 

“ I think we are secure of most of the high nobility, 
though their great risks render them all a little wary in the 
outset. It is among the professional men — the gallant sol- 
diers, and the bold, ardent seamen of the fleet, that we must 
look for the first demonstrations of loyalty and true patriot- 
ism. To be honest with you, sir, I tire of being ruled by a 
German.” 

“ Do you know of any intention to rally a force in this part 
of England, Sir Reginald ? If so, say but the word — point 

'27* 


318 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


out the spot where the standard is to be raised, and I will rally 
under it, the instant circumstances will permit !” 

“ This is just what I expected, Mr. Bluewater,” answered 
the baronet, more gratified than he thought it prudent to ex- 
press ; “ though it is not exactly the form in which you can 
best serve us at this precise moment. Cut off from the north, 
as we are in this part of the island, by all the resources of the 
actual government, it would be the height of imprudence in us 
to show our hands, until all the cards are ready to be played. 
Active and confidential agents are at work in the army ; 
London has its proper share of business men, while others are 
in the counties, doing their best to put things in a shape for 
the consummation we so anxiously look for. I have been with 
several of our friends in this vicinity, to bring matters into a 
combined state ; and it was my intention to visit this very 
estate, to see what my own name might do with the tenantry, 
had not the late Sir Wychcrly summoned me as he did, to at- 
tend his death-bed. Have you any clue to the feelings of this 
new and young head of my family, the sea-lieutenant and 
present baronet ?” 

“Not a very plain one, sir, though I doubt if they be 
favourable to the House of Stuart.” 

“ I feared as much ; this very evening I have had an 
anonymous communication that I think must come from his 
competitor, pretty plainly intimating that, by asserting his 
rights, as they are called, the whole Wychecombe tenantry and 
interest could be united, in the present struggle, on whichever 
side I might desire to see them.” 

“ This is a bold and decided stroke, truly ! May I inquire 
as to your answer, Sir Reginald ?” 

“ I shall give none. Under all circumstances I will ever 
refuse to place a bastard in the seat of a legitimate descendant 
of my family. We contend for legal and natural rights, my 


T HE TWO A D M I It A I> S . 


310 


dear admiral, and the means employed should not he unworthy 
of the end. Besides, I know the scoundrel to be unworthy of 
trust, and shall not have the weakness to put myself in his 
power. I could wish the other boy to be of another mind ; 
but, by getting him off to sea, whither he tells me he is bound, 
we shall at least send him out of harm’s way.” 

In all this Sir Reginald was perfectly sincere ; for, while 
he did not always hesitate about the employment of means, in 
matters of politics, he was rigidly honest in every thing that 
related to private property ; a species of moral contradiction 
that is sometimes found among men who aim at the manage- 
ment of human affairs ; since those often yield to a besetting 
Aveakness who are nearly irreproachable in other matters. 
Bluewater was glad to hear this declaration ; his own simplicity 
of character inducing him to fancy it was an indication to the 
general probity of his companion. 

“ Yes,” observed the latter, “ in all cases, we must main- 
tain the laws of the land, in an affair of private right. This 
young man is not capable, perhaps, of forming a just estimate 
of his political duties, in a crisis like this, and it may be well, 
truly, to get him off to sea, lest by taking the losing side, he 
endangers his estate before he is fairly possessed of it. And 
having now disposed of Sir Wycherly, what can I do most to 
aid the righteous and glorious cause ?” 

“ This is coming to the point manfully, Sir Richard — I beg 
pardon for thus styling you, but I happen to know that your 
name has been before the prince, for some time, as one of those 
who are to receive the riband from a sovereign really 
authorized to bestow it ; if I have spoken a little prema- 
turely, I again entreat your pardon ; — but, this is at once 
coming manfully to the point ! Serve us you can, of course, 
and that most efiectually, and in an all-important manner. 
I now greatly regret that my father had not put me in the 


320 ,T H E TWO ADMIRALS. 

army, in my youth, that I might serve my prince as I could 
wish, in this perilous trial. But we have many friends accus- 
tomed to arms, and among them your own honourable name 
will' appear conspicuous as to the past, and encouraging as to 
the future.” 

“ I have carried arms from boyhood, it is true. Sir Reginald, 
hut it is in a service that will scarcely much avail us in this 
warfare. Prince Edward has no ships, nor do I know he will 
need any.” 

“ True, my dear sir, hut King George has ! As for the 
necessity, permit me to say you are mistaken ; it will soon be 
all-important to keep open the communication with the con- 
tinent. No doubt. Monsieur de Vervillin is out, with some 
such object, already.” 

Bluewater started, and he recoiled from the firm grasp 
which the other took of his arm, in the earnestness of dis- 
course, with some such instinctive aversion as a man recoils 
from the touch of the reptile. The thought of a treachery 
like that implied in the remark of his companion had never 
occurred to him, and his honest mind turned with a strong 
disrelish, from even the implied proposition of the other. Still, 
he w’as not quite certain how far Sir Reginald wished to urge 
him, and he felt it just to ascertain his real views before he 
answered them. Plausible as this appeared, it was a danger- 
ous delay for one so simple-minded, when brought in contact 
with a person so practised as the baronet ; Sir Reginald 
having the tact to perceive that his new friend’s feelings had 
already taken the alarm, and at once determined to be more 
wary. 

“ What am I to understand by this. Sir Reginald Wyche- 
combe ?” demanded the rear-admiral. “ In what manner can 
I possibly be connected with the naval resources of the House 
of Hanover, wRen it is my intention to throw off its service ? 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


321 


King George’s fleets will hardly aid the Stuarts ; and they 
will, at least, obey the orders of their own officers.” 

“ Not the least doubt in the world of this, Admiral Blue- 
water ’ What a glorious privilege it was for Monk to have it 
m his power to put his liege sovereign in his rightful seat, and 
thus to save the empire, by a coup de main, from the pains 
and grievances of a civil contest ! Of all the glorious names 
in English history, I esteem that of George Monk as the one 
most to be envied ! It is a great thing to be a prince — one 
born to be set apart as God’s substitute on earth, in all that 
relates to human justice and human power ; — yet it is greater, 
in my eyes, to be the subject to restore the order of these 
almost divine successions, when once deranged by lawless and 
presuming men.” 

“ This is true enough, sir ; though I would rather have 
joined Charles on the beach at Dover, armed only with an 
untainted sword, than followed by an army at my heels !” 

“ What, when that army followed cheerfully, and was 
equally eager with yourself to serve their sovereign !” 

“ That, indeed, might somewhat qualify the feeling. But 
soldiers and sailors are usually influenced by the opinions of 
those who have been placed over them by the higher au- 
thorities.” 

“No doubt they are ; and that is as it should be. We are 
encouraged to believe that some ten or fifteen captains are 
already well-disposed towards us, and will cheerfully take their 
respective ships to the points ou^: wants require, the moment 
they feel assured of being properly led, when collected. By a 
little timely concert, We can command the North Sea, and 
keep open important communications with the continent. It 
is known the ministry intend to employ as many German 
troops as they can assemble, and a naval force will be all-im- 
portant in keeping these mustachoed foreigners at a distance- 


322 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


The quarrel is purely English, sir, and ought to be decided by 
Englishmen only.” 

“ In that, indeed, I fully concur. Sir Reginald,” answered 
Bluewater, breathing more freely. “ I would cruise a whole 
winter in the North Sea to keep the Dutchmen at home, and 
let Englishmen decide who is to be England’s king. To me, 
foreign interference, in such a matter, is the next evil to posi- 
tive disloyalty to my rightful prince.” 

“ These are exactly my sentiments, dear sir, and I hope to 
see you act on them. By the way, how happens it you are 
left alone, and in what manner do you admirals divide your 
authority when serving in company ?” 

“ I do not know I comprehend your question. Sir Reginald. 
I am left here to sail the last with the Ca3sar ; Sir Gervaise 
leading out in the Plantagenet, with a view to draw a 
line across the channel that shall edectually prevent de Ver- 
villin from getting to the westward.” 

“ To the westward .'” repeated the other, smiling iron- 
ically, though the darkness prevented the admiral from see- 
ing the expression of his features. “ Does Admiral Oakes 
then think that the French ships are steering in that direc- 
tion ?” 

“ Such is our information ; have you any reason to sup- 
pose that the enemy intend differently ?” 

The baronet paused, and he appeared to ruminate. Enough 
had already passed to satisfy him he had not an ordinary mind 
in that of his companion to deal with, and he was slightly at 
a loss how to answer. To bring the other within his lures, 
he was fully resolved ; and the spirits that aid the designing 
just at that moment suggested the plan which, of all others, 
was most likely to be successful. Bluewater had betrayed 
his aversion to the interference of foreign troops in the 
quarrel, and on this subject he intended to strike a chord 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


323 


which he rightly fancied w'ould thrill on the rear-admiral’s 
feelings. 

“ We have our information, certainly,” answered Sir Regi- 
nald, like one who was reluctant to tell all he knew; “ though 
good faith requires it should not actually be exposed. Never- 
theless, any one can reason on the probabilities. The Duke 
of Cumberland will collect his German auxiliaries, and they 
must get into England the best way that they can. Would 
an intelligent enemy with a well-appointed fleet suffer this 
junction, if he could prevent it ? We know he would not ; and 
when we remember the precise time of the sailing of the 
Comte, his probable ignorance of the presence of this squadron 
of yours, in the channel, and all the other circumstances of the 
case, who can suppose otherwise than to believe his aim is to 
intercept the German regiments.” 

“ This does seem plausible; and yet the Active’s signals 
told us that the French were steering west ; and that, too, 
with a light westerly wind.” 

“ Do not fleets, like armies, frequently make false demon- 
strations ? Might not Monsieur de Vervillin, so long as his 
vessels were in sight from the shore, have turned toward the 
west, with an intention, as soon as covered by the darkness, 
to incline to the east, again, and sail up channel, under English 
ensigns, perhaps ? Is it not possible for him to pass the Straits 
of Dover, even, as an English squadron — your own, for instance 
— and thus deceive the Hanoverian cruisers until ready to seize 
or destroy any transports that may be sent ?” 

“ Hardly, Sir Reginald,” said Biuewater, smiling. “ A 
French ship can no more be mistaken for an English ship, 
than a Frenchman can pass for a Briton. We sailors are not 
as easily deceived as that would show. It is true, however, 
that a fleet might well stand in one direction, until far enough 
off the land or covered by night, when it might change its 


324 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


course suddenly, in an opposite direction ; and it is i’)0ssihle 
the Comte de Vervillin has adopted some such stratagem. If 
he actually knew of the intention to throw German troops into 
the island, it is even quite 'probable. In that case, for one, I 
could actually wish him success !” 

“ Well, my dear sir, and what is to prevent it ?” asked 
Sir Reginald, with a triumph that was not feigned. “ Noth- 
ing, you will say, unless he fall in with Sir Gervaise Oakes. 
But you have not answered my inquiry, as to the manner in 
which flag-officers divide their commands, at sea ?” 

“ As soldiers divide their commands ashore. The superior 
orders, and the inferior obeys.” 

“ Ay, this is true ; but it does not meet my question. Here 
are eleven large ships, and two admirals ; now what portion 
of these ships are under your particular orders, and what por- 
tion under those of Sir Gervaise Oakes ?” 

“ The vice-admiral has assigned to himself a division of 
six of the ships, and left me the other five. Each of us has 
his frigates and smaller vessels. But an order that the com- 
mander-in-chief may choose to give any captain must be 
obeyed by him, as the inferior submits, as a rule, to the last 
order.” 

“ And youP resumed Sir Reginald, with quickness ; “ how 
are you situated, as respects these captains ?” 

“ Should I give a direct order to any captain in the fleet, 
it would certainly be his duty to obey it ; though circumstances 
might occur which would render it obligatory on him to let me 
know that he had different instructions from our common su- 
perior. But, why these questions. Sir Reginald ?” 

“ Your patience, my dear admiral and what ships have 
you specifically under your care ?” 

“ The Caesar, my own ; the Dublin, the Elizabeth, the York, 
and the Dover. To these must be added the Druid frigate. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


325 


the sloop of war, and the Gnat. My division numbers eight 
in all.” 

“ "What a magnificent force to possess at a moment as 
critical as this ! — But where are all these vessels ? I see but 
four and a cutter, and only two of these seem to be large.” 

“The light you perceive there, along the land to the west- 
ward, is on board the Elizabeth ; and that broad off here, in 
the channel, is on board the York. The Dover’s lantern has 
disappeared further to the southward. Ah ! there the Dublin 
casts, and is off after the others !” 

“ And you intend to follow. Admiral Bluewater ?” 

“ Within an hour, or I shall lose the division. As it is, 
I have been deliberating on the propriety of calling back 
the sternrnost ships, and collecting them in close squadron ; 
for this increase and hauling of the wind render it probable 
they will lose the vice-admiral, and that day-light will find 
the line scattered and in confusion. One mind must control 
the movements of ships, as well as of battalions. Sir Reginald, 
if they are to act in concert.” 

“ With what view would you collect the vessels you have 
mentioned, and in the manner you have named, if you do not 
deem my inquiry indiscreet ?” demanded the baronet, with 
quickness. 

“ Simply that they might be kept together, and brought in 
subjection to my own particular signals. This is the duty 
that more especially falls to my share, as head of the di- 
vision.” 

“ Have you the means to effect this, here, on this hill, and 
by yourself, sir ?” 

“ It would be a great oversight to neglect so important a 
provision. My signal-officer is lying under yonder cover, 
wrapped in his cloak, and two quarter-masters are in readi- 
ness to make the very signal in question ; for its necessity has 

28 


326 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


been foreseen, and really would seem to be approaching. If 
done at all, it must be done quickly, too. The light of the 
York grows dim in the distance. It shall be done, sir ; 
prudence requires it, and you shall see the manner in which 
we hold our distant ships in command.” 

Bluewater could not have announced more agreeable intel- 
ligence to his companion. Sir Reginald was afraid to propose 
the open treason he meditated ; but he fancied, if the rear- 
admiral could fairly withdraw his own division from the fleet, 
it Avould at once weaken the vice-admiral so much, as to 
render an engagement with the French impossible, and might 
lead to such a separation of the commands as to render the 
final defection of the division in-shore easier of accomplish- 
ment. It is true, Bluewater, himself, was actuated by 
motives directly contrary to these wishes ; but, as the parties 
travelled the same road to a certain point, the intriguing 
baronet had his expectations of being able to persuade his new 
friend to continue on in his own route. 

Promptitude is a military virtue, and, among seamen, it is 
a maxim to do every thing that is required to be done, with 
activity and vigour. These laws were not neglected on the 
present occasion. No sooner had the rear-admiral determined 
on his course, than he summoned his agents to put it in 
execution. Lord Geoffrey had returned to the heights and 
M^as within call, and he carried the orders to the lieutenant 
and the quarter-masters. The lanterns only required lighting, 
and then they were run aloft on Dutton’s staff, as regularly as 
the same duty could have been performed on the poop of the 
Caesar. Three rockets were thrown up, immediately after, 
and the gun kept on the cliffs for that purpose was fired, to 
draw attention to the signal. It might have been a minute 
ere the heavy ordnance of the Caesar repeated the summons, 
and the same signal was shown at her mast-head. The 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


327 


Dublin was still so near that no time was lost, but according 
to orders, she too repeated the signal ; for in the line that 
night, it was understood that an order of this nature was to be 
sent from ship to ship. 

“ Now for the Elizabeth !” cried Bluewater ; “ she cannot 
fail to have heard our guns, and to see our signals.” 

“ The York is ahead of her, sir !” exclaimed the boy ; 
“ see ; she has the signal up already I” 

All this passed in a very few minutes, the last ships having 
sailed in the expectation of receiving some such recall. The 
York preceded the ship next to her in the line, in consequence 
of having gone about, and being actually nearer to the rear- 
admiral than her second astern. It was but a minute, before 
the gun and the lanterns of the Elizabeth, however, an- 
nounced her knowledge of the order, also. 

The two ships last named were no longer visible from the 
cliffs, though their positions were known by their lights ; but 
no sign whatever indicated the part of the ocean on which the 
Dover was struggling along through the billows. After a 
pause of several minutes, Bluewater spoke. 

“ I fear we shall collect no more,” he said ; “ one of my 
ships must take her chance to find the commander-in-chief, 
alone. Ha I — that means something !” 

At this instant a faint, distant flash was seen, for a single 
moment, in the gloom, and then all heads were bent forward 
to listen, in breathless attention. A little time had elapsed, 
when the dull, smothered report of a gun proclaimed that even 
the Dover had caught the rapidly transmitted order. 

“ What means that, sir ?” eagerly demanded Sir Reginald, 
who had attended to every thing with intense expectation. 

“ It means, sir, that all of the division are still under my 
command. No other ship would note the order. Their di* 
rections, unless specifically pointed out by their numbers, must 


328 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


come from the- vice-admiral. Is my barge ashore, Lord 
Geoffrey Cleveland ?” 

“ It is, sir, as well as the cutter for Mr, Cornet and the 
quarter-masters.” 

“ It is well. Gentlemen, we will go on hoard ; the Caesar 
must weigh and join the other vessels in the offing. I will 
follow you to the landing, but you will shove off, at once, and 
desire Captain Stowel to weigh and cast to-port. We will fill 
on the starboard tack, and haul directly off the land.” 

The whole party immediately left the station, hurrying 
down to the boats, leaving Bluewater and Sir Reginald to fol- 
low more leisurely. It was a critical moment for the baronet, 
who had so nearly effected his purpose, that his disappoint- 
ment would have been double did he fail of his object alto- 
gether. He determined, therefore, not to quit the admiral while 
there was the slightest hope of success. The two consequently 
descended together to the shore, walking, for the first minute 
or two, in profound silence. 

“A great game is in your hands. Admiral Bluewater,” 
resumed the baronet ; “ rightly played, it may secure the 
triumph of the good cause. I think I may say I knoio de 
Vervillin’s object, and that his success will reseat the Stuarts 
on the thrones of their ancestors ! One who loves them 
should ponder well before he does aught to mar so glorious a 
result.” 

This speech was as bold as it was artful. In point of fact. 
Sir Reginald Wychecombe knew no more of the Comte de 
Vervillin’s intended movements than his companion; but he 
did not hesitate to assert what he now did, in order to obtain 
a great political advantage, in a moment of so much import 
ance. To commit Bluewater and his captains openly on the 
side of the Stuarts would be a great achievement in itself; to 
frustrate the plans of Sir Gervaise might safely be accounted 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


329 


another ; and, then, there were all the chances that the 
Frenchman was not at sea for nothing, and that his operations 
might indeed succour the movements of the prince. The 
baronet, upright as he was in other matters, had no scruples 
of conscience on this occasion ; having long since brought 
himself over to the belief that it was justifiable to attain ends 
as great as those he had in view, by the sacrifice of any of the 
minor moral considerations. 

The effect on Bluewater was not trifling. The devil had 
placed the bait before his eyes in a most tempting form ; for 
he felt that he had only to hold his division in reserve to ren- 
der an engagement morally improbable. Abandon his friend 
to a superior force he could and would not ; but, it is our pain- 
ful duty to avow that his mind had glimpses of the possibility 
of doing the adventurer in Scotland a great good, without doing 
the vice-admiral and the van of the fleet any very essential 
harm. Let us be understood, however. The rear-admiral did 
not even contemplate treason, or serious defection of any sort ; 
but through one of those avenues of frailty by which men are 
environed, he had a glance at results that the master-spirit of 
evil momentarily placed before his mental vision as both great 
and glorious. 

“ I wish we were really certain of de Yervillin’s object,” 
he said ; the only concession he made to this novel feeling, in 
words. “ It might, indeed, throw a great light on the course 
we ought to take ourselves. I do detest this German alliance, 
and would abandon the service ere I would convoy or transport 
a ragamuffin of them all to England.” 

Here Sir Reginald proved how truly expert he was in the 
arts of management. A train of thought and feeling had been 
lighted in the mind of his companion, which he felt might lead 
to all he wished, while he was apprehensive that further per- 
suasion would awaken opposition, and renew old sentiments. 

28 * 


330 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


He wisely determined, therefore, to leave things as they were, 
trusting to the strong and declared bias of the admiral in 
favour of the revolution, to work out its own consequences, with 
a visible and all-important advantage so prominently placed 
before his eyes. 

“ I know nothing of ships,” he answered, modestly ; “ but 
I do knov) that the Comte has our succour in view. It would 
ill become me to advise one of your experience how to lead a 
force like this, w'hich is subject to your orders ; but a friend of 
the good cause, who is now in the west, and who was lately 
in the presence itself, tells me that the prince- manifested ex- 
treme satisfaction when he learned how much it might be in 
your power to serve him.” 

“ Do you then think my name has reached the royal ear, 
and that the prince has any knowledge of my real feelings ?” 

“Nothing but your extreme modesty could cause you to 
doubt the first, sir ; as to the last, ask yourself how came I to 
approach you to-night, wdth my heart in my hand, as it might 
be, making you master of my life as well as of my secret. 
Love and hatred are emotions that soon betray themselves.” 

It is matter of historical truth that men of the highest 
principles and strongest minds have yielded to the flattery of 
rank. Bluewater’s political feelings had rendered him indif- 
ferent to the blandishments of the court at London, while his 
imagination, that chivalrous deference to antiquity and poet- 
ical right, which lay at the root of his Jacobitism, and his 
brooding sympathies, disposed him but too well to become the 
dupe of language like this. Had he been more a man of facts, 
one less under the influence of his own imagination ; had it 
been his good fortune to live even in contact with those he 
now so devoutly worshipped, in a political sense at least, 
their influence over a mind as just and clear-sighted as his 
own, would soon have ceased ; but, passing his time at sea, 


THE T W U ADMIRALS. 


331 


they had the most powerful auxiliary possible, in the high 
faculty he possessed of fancying things as he wished them 
to be. No wonder, then, that he heard this false assertion of 
Sir Reginald with a glow of pleasure ; with even a thrill at 
the heart to which he had long been a stranger. For a time, 
his better feelings were smothered in this new and treacherous 
sensation. 

The gentlemen, by this time, were at the landing, and it 
became necessary to separate. The barge of the rear-admiral 
was with difficulty kept from leaping on the rock, by means 
of oars and boat-hooks, and each instant rendered the embark- 
ation more and more difficult. The moments were precious 
on more accounts than one, and the leave-taking was short. 
Sir Reginald said but little, though he intended the pressure 
of the hand he gave his companion to express every thing. 

“ God be with you,” he added ; “ and as you prove true, 
may you prove successful ! Remember, ‘ a lawful prince, and 
the claims of birth-right.’ God be with you !” 

“ Adieu, Sir Reginald ; when we next meet, the future 
will probably be more apparent to us all. — But who comes 
hither, rushing like a madman towards the boat ?” 

A form came leaping through the darkness ; nor was it 
known, until it stood within two feet of Bluewater, it was 
that of Wycherly. He had heard the guns and seen the sig- 
nals. Guessing at the reasons, he dashed from the park, which 
he was pacing to cool his agitation, and which now owned 
him for a master, and ran the whole distar, ce to the shore, in 
order not to be left. His arrival was most opportune ; for, in 
another minute, the barge left the rock. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


“O’er the glad waters of the dark-blue sea, 

Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, 

Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, 

Survey our empire and behold oui' home.” 

The Corsair. 

One is never fully aware of the extent of the movement 
that agitates the bosom of the ocean until fairly subject to its 
action himself, when indeed we all feel its power and reason 
closely on its dangers. The first pitch of his boat told Blue- 
water that the night threatened to be serious. As the lusty 
oarsmen bent to their stroke, the barge rose on a swell, divi- 
ding the foam that glanced past it like a marine Aurora Bo- 
realis, and then plunged into the trough as if descending to 
the bottom. It required several united and vigorous efforts to 
force the little craft from its dangerous vicinity to the rocks, 
and to get it in perfect command. This once done, however, 
the well-practised crew urged the barge slowly but steadily 
ahead. 

“ A dirty night ! — a dirty night !” muttered Bluewater, 
unconsciously to himself; “ we should have had a wild berth, 
had we rode out this blow, at anchor. Oakes will have a 
heavy time of it out yonder in the very chops of the channel, 
with a westerly swell heaving in against this ebb.” 

“ Yes, sir,” ansv^ered Wycherly ; “ the vice-admiral will 
be looking out for us all, anxiously enough, in the morning.” 

Not another syllable did Bluewater utter until his boat 
had touched the side of the Caesar. He reffected deeply on his 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


333 


situation, and those who know his feelings will easily under- 
stand that his refleotions were not altogether free from pain. 
Such as they were, he kept them to himself, however, and 
in a man-of-war’s boat, when a flag-officer chooses to be 
silent, it is a matter of course for his inferiors to imitate his 
example. 

The barge was about a quarter of a mile from the land- 
ing, when the heavy flap of the Caesar’s main-top-sail was 
heard, as, elose-reefed, it struggled for freedom, while her crew 
drew its sheets down to the blocks on the lower yard-arms. A 
minute later, the Gnat, under the head of her fore-and-aft- 
mainsail, was seen standing slowly off from the land, looking 
in the darkness like some half-equipped shadow of herself. 
The sloop of w'ar, too, was seen bending low to the force of 
the wind, with her mere apology of a topsail thrown abaek, in 
W'aiting for the flag-ship to cast. 

The surface of the waters was a sheet of glancing foam, 
while the air was filled with the blended sounds of the wash 
of the element, and the roar of the winds. Still there was 
nothing chilling or repulsive in the temperature of the air, 
which was charged with the freshness of the sea, and was 
bracing and animating, bringing with it the flavour that a 
seaman loves. After fully fifteen minutes’ severe tugging at 
the oars, the barge drew near enough to permit the black mass 
of the Ca3sar to be seen. For some time. Lord Geoflrey, who 
had seated himself at the tiller, — yoke-lines were not used a 
century since, — steered by the top-light of the rear-admiral ; 
but now the maze of hamper was seen waving slowly to and 
fro in the lurid heavens, and the huge hull became visible, 
heaving and setting, as if the ocean groaned with the labour 
of lifting such a pile of wood and iron. A light gleamed 
from the cabin-windows, and ever and anon, one glaneed 
athwart an open gun-room port. In all other respects, the 


T II E WO ADMIRALS. 


P»34 

snip presented but one hue of blackness. Nor was it an easy 
undertaking, even after the barge was under the lee of the 
ship, for those in it, to quit its uneasy support and get a firm 
footing on the elects that lined the vessel’s side like a ladder. 
This was done, however, and all ascended to the deck but 
two of the crew, who remained to hook-on the yard and stay- 
tackles. This effected, the shrill whistle gave the word, and 
that large boat, built to carry at need some twenty souls, was 
raised from the raging water, as it were by some gigan- 
tic effort of the ship herself, and safely deposited in her 
bosom. 

“ We are none too soon, sir,” said Stowel, the moment he 
had received the rear-admiral with the customary etiquette of 
the hour. “ It’s a cap-full of wind already, and it promises to 
blow harder before morning. We are catted and fished, sir, 
and the forecastle-men are passing the shank-painter at this 
moment.” 

“ Fill, sir, and stretch off, on an easy bowline,” was the 
answer ; “ when a league in the offing, let me know it. Mr. 
Cornet, I have need of you, in my cabin.” 

As this was said, Bluewater w'ent below, followed by his 
signal-officer. At the same instant the first lieutenant called 
out to man the main-braces, and to fill the topsail. As soon 
as this command was obeyed, the Csesar started ahead. Her 
movement was slow, but it had a majesty in it, that set at 
naught the turbulence of the elements. 

Bluewater had paced to and fro in his cabin no less than 
six times, with his head drooping, in a thoughtful attitude, ere 
his attention was called to any external object. 

“ Do you wish my presence. Admiral Bluewater ?” the sig- 
nal-officer at length inquired. 

“ I ask your pardon, Mr. Cornet ; I was really unconscious 
that you were in the c.abin. Let me see — ay — our last 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


335 


signal was, ‘ division come within hail of rear-admiral.’ 
They must get close to us, to be able to do that to-night. 
Cornet ! The winds and weaves have begun their song in 
earnest.” , 

“ And yet, sir. I’ll venture a month’s pay that Captain 
Drinkw'ater brings the Dover so near us, as to put the officer 
of the watch and the quarter-master at the wheel in a fever. 
We once made that signal, in a gale of wind, and he passed 
his jib-boom-end over our taffrail.” 

“ He is certainly a most literal gentleman, that Captain 
Drink water, but he knows how to take care of his ship. Look 
for the number of ‘ follow the rear-admiral’s motions.’ ’Tis 
211, I think.” 

“ No, sir ; but 212. Blue, red, and white, with the flags. 
With the lanterns, ’tis one of the simplest signals we have.” 

“We will make it, at once. When that is done, show 
* the rear-admiral ; keep in his wake, in the general order of 
sailing.’ That I am sure is 204.” 

“ Yes, sir ; you are quite right. Shall I show the second 
signal as soon as all the vessels have answered the first, sir ?” 

“ That is my intention. Cornet. When all have answered, 
let me know it.” 

Mr. Cornet now left the cabin, and Bluewater took a seat 
in an arm-chair, in deep meditation. For quite half an hour 
the former was busy on the poop, with his two quarter-masters, 
going through the slow and far from easy duty of making 
night-signals, as they were then practised at sea. It was some 
time before the most distant vessel, the Dover, gave any evi- 
dence of comprehending the first order, and then the same 
tardy operation had to be gone through with for the second. 
At length the sentinel threw open the cabin-door, and Cornet 
reappeared. During the whole of his absence on deck. Blue- 
water had not stirred ; scarce seemed to breathe. His thoughts 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


?,?»Q 

were away from his ships, and for the first time, in the ten 
years he had worn a flag, he had forgotten the order he had 
given. 

“ The signals are made and answered, sir,” said Cornet, as 
soon as he had advanced to the edge of the table, on which 
the rear-admiral’s elbow was leaning. “ The Dublin is already 
in our wake, and the Elizabeth is bearing down fast on our 
weather-quarter ; she will bring herself into her station in ten 
minutes.” 

“What news of the York and Dover, Cornet?” asked 
Blue water, rousing himself from a fit of deep abstraction. 

“ The York’s light nears us, quite evidently ; though that 
of the Dover is still a fixed star, sir,” answered the lieutenant, 
chuckling a little at his own humour ; “it seems no larger than 
it did when we first made it.” 

“It is something to have made it at all. I was not aware 
it could be seen from deck ?” 

“ Nor can it, sir ; but, by going up half a-dozen ratlins we 
I get a look at it. Captain Drinkwater bowses up his lights to 
the gaff-end, and I can see him always ten minutes sooner than 
any other ship in the fleet, under the same circumstances.” 

“ Drinkwater is a careful officer ; do the bearings of his 
light alter enough to tell the course he is steering ?” 

“ I think they do, sir, though our standing out athwart his 
line of sailing would make the change slow, of course. Every 
foot we get to the southward, you know, sir, would throw his 
bearings farther west ; while every foot he comes east, would 
counteract that change and throw his bearings further south.” 

“ That’s very clear ; but, as he must go three fathoms to our 
one, running off with square yards before such a breeze, I think 
w'e should be constantly altering his bearings to the south- 
ward.” 

“ No doubt of it, in the world, sir ; and that is just what 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


337 


we are doing. I think I can see a difference of half a point, 
already ; hut, when we get his light fairly in view from the 
poop, we shall be able to tell with perfect accuracy.” 

“ All very well. Cornet. Do me the favour to desire 
Captain Stowel to step into the cabu'. . and keep a bright 
look-out for the ships of the division. Stay, for a single 
instant ; what particularly sharp-eyed youngster happens to 
belong to the watch on deck ?” 

“ I know none keener in that way than Lord Geoffrey 
Cleveland, sir ; he can see all the roguery that is going on in 
the whole fleet, at any rate, and ought to see other things.” 

“ He will do perfectly well ; send the young gentleman to 
me, sir ; but, first inform the officer of the watch that I have 
need of him.” 

Bluewater was unusually fastidious in exercising his au- 
thority over those who had temporary superiors on the assigned 
duty of the ship ; and he never sent an order to any of the 
watch, without causing it to pass through the officer of that 
watch. He waited but a minute before the boy appeared. 

“ Have you a good gripe to-night, boy ?” asked the rear- 
admiral, smiling ; “ or will it be both hands for yourself and 
none for the king ? I want you on the fore-top-gallant-yard, 
for eight or ten minutes.” 

“Well, sir, it’s a plain road there, and one I’ve often 
travelled,” returned the lad, cheerfully. 

“ That I well know ; you are certainly no skulk when 
duty is to be done. Go aloft then, and ascertain if the lights 
of any of Sir Gervaise’s squadron are to be seen. You will 
remember that the Dover bears somewhere about south-west 
from us, and that she is still a long way to seaward. I should 
think all of Sir Gervaise’s ships must be quite as far to wind- 
ward as that point would bring them, but much further olT. 
By looking sharp a point or half a point to windward of the 

29 


338 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Dover, you may possibly see the light of the Warspite, and then 
we shall get a correct idea of the bearings of all the rest of the 
division — ” 

“ Ay-ay-sir,” interrupted the boy ; “I think I understand 
exactly what you wish to know. Admiral Bluewater.” 

“ That is a natural gift at sixteen, my lord,” returned the 
admiral, smiling ; “ but it may be improved a little, perhaps, 
by the experience of fifty. Now, it is possible Sir Gervaise 
may have gone about, as soon as the flood made ; in which 
case he ought to bear nearly west of us, and you will also look 
in that direction. On the other hand. Sir Gervaise may have 
stretched so far over towards the French coast before night 
shut in, as to feel satisfied Monsieur de Vervillin is still to the 
eastward of him ; in w'^hich case he would keep off a little, 
and may, at this moment, be nearly ahead of us. So that, 
under all the circumstances, you will sweep the horizon, from 
the weather-beam to the lee-bow, ranging forward. Am I 
understood, now, my lord ?” 

“ Yes, sir, I think you are,” answered the boy, blushing 
at his own impetuosity “ You will excuse my indiscretion. 
Admiral Bluewater ; but I thought I understood all you de- 
sired, when I spoke so hastily.” 

“ No doubt you did, Geoffrey, but you perceive you did not. 
Nature has made you quick of apprehension, but not quick 
enough to foresee all an old man’s gossip. Come nearer, now, 
and let us shake hands. So go aloft, and hold on well, for it 
is a windy night, and I do not desire to lose you overboard.” 

The boy did as told, squeezed Bluewater’s hand, and dashed 
out of the Cabin to conceal his tears. As for the rear-admiral, 
he immediately relapsed into his fit of forgetfulness, waiting 
for the arrival of Stowel. 

A summons to a captain does not as immediately produce 
a visit, on board a vessel of war, as a summons to a midship- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


830 


man. Captain Stowel was busy in looking at the manner in 
which his boats w^ere stowed, when Cornet told him of the 
rear-admiral’s request ; and then he had to give some orders 
to the first lieutenant concerning the fresh meat that had been 
got off, and one or two other similar little things, before he 
was at leisure to comply. 

“ See me, do you say, Mr. Cornet ; in his own cabin, as 
soon as it is convenient ?” he at length remarked, when all 
these several offices had been duly performed. 

The signal-officer repeated the request, word for word as 
he had heard it, when he turned to take another look at 
the light of the Dover. As for Stow'el, he cared no more for 
the Dover, windy and dark as the night promised to be, than 
the burgher is apt to care for his neighbour’s house when the 
whole street is threatened with destruction. To him the Caesar 
was the great centre of attraction, and Cornet paid him off in 
kind ; for, of all the vessels in the fleet, the Caesar w^as pre- 
cisely the one to which he gave the least attention ; and this 
for the simple reason that she was the only ship to which he 
never gave, or from which he never received, a signal. 

“ Well, Mr. Bluff,” said Stowel to the first lieutenant ; 
“ one of us will have to be on deck most of the night, and I’ll 
take a slant below, for half an hour first, and see what the 
admiral wishes.” 

Thus saying, the captain left the deck, in order to ascertain 
his superior’s pleasure. Captain Stowel was several years 
the senior of Bluewater, having actually been a lieutenant in 
one of the frigates in wffiich the rear-adrniral had served as a 
midshipman ; a circumstance to which he occasionally alluded 
in their present intercourse. The change in the relative po- 
sitions was the result of the family influence of the junior, who 
had passed his senior in the grade of master and commander ; 
a rank that then brought many an honest man up for life, in 


340 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


the English marine. At the age of five-and-forty, that at 
which Bluewater first hoisted his flag, Stowell was posted ; 
and soon after he was invited by his old shipmate, who had 
once had him under him as his first lieutenant in a sloop of 
war, to take the command of his flag-ship. From that day 
down to the pre.sent moment, the two officers had sailed to- 
gether, whenever they sailed at all, perfectly good friends; 
though the captain never appeared entirely to forget the time 
when they were in the aforesaid frigate ; one a gun-room, 
officer, and the other only a “youngster.” 

Stowel must now have been about sixty-five ; a square, 
hard-featured, red-faced seaman, who knew all about his ship, 
from her truck to her limber-rope, but who troubled himself 
very little about any thing else. He had married a widow 
when he was posted, but was childless, and had long since 
permitted his affections to wander back into their former 
channels ; from the domestic hearth to his ship. He seldom 
spoke of matrimony, but the little he saw fit to say on the 
subject was comprehensive and to the point. A perfectly sober 
man, he consumed large quantities of both wine and brandy, 
as well as of tobacco, and never seemed to be the Avorse for 
either. Loyal he was by political faith, and he looked upon a 
revolution, let its qbject be what it might, as he would have 
regarded a mutiny in the Caesar. He Avas exceedingly per- 
tinacious of his rights as “ captain of his own ship,” both 
ashore and afloat ; a disposition that produced less trouble 
with the mild and gentlemanly rear-admiral, than with Mrs. 
Stowel. If we add that this plain sailor never looked into a 
book, his proper scientific works excepted, we shall have said 
all of him that his connection with our tale demands. 

“ Good-evening, Admiral Bluewater,” said this true tar, 
saluting the rear-admiral, as one neighbour AA^ould greet another, 
on dropping in of an evening, for they occupied different 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


341 


cabins. “ Mr. Cornet told me you would like to say a word 
to me, before I turned in ; if, indeed, turn in at all, I do this 
blessed night.” ' 

“ Take a seat, Stowel, and a glass of this sherry, in the 
bargain,” Bluewater answered, kindly, showing how well he 
understood his man, by the manner in which he shoved both 
bottle and glass within reach of his hand. “ How goes the 
night ? — and is this wind likely to stand ?” 

“ I’m of opinion, sir — we’ll drink His Majesty, if you’ve no 
objection. Admiral Bluewater, — I’m of opinion, we shall stretch 
the threads of that new main-top-sail, before we’ve done with 
the breeze, sir. I believe I’ve not told you, yet, that I’ve had 
the new sail bent, since we last spoke together on the subject. 
It’s a good fit, sir ; and, close-reefed, the sails stands like the 
side of a house.” 

“I’m glad to hear it, Stowel ; though I think all your 
canvass usually appears to be in its place.” 

“ Why you know, Admiral Bluewater, that I’ve been long 
enough at it, to understand something about the matter. It is 
now more than forty years since we were in the Calypso 
together, and ever since that time I’ve borne the commission 
of an officer. You were then a youngster, and thought more 
of your joke, than of bending sails, or of seeing how they 
would stand.” 

“ There wasn’t much of me, certainly, forty years ago, 
Stowel ; but I well remember the knack you had of making 
every robin, sheet, bowline, and thread do its duty, then, as 
you do to-day. By the way, can you tell me any thing of the 
Dover, this evening ?” 

“ Not I, sir ; she came out with the rest of us I suppose, 
and must be somewhere in the fleet ; though I dare say the 
log will have it all, if she has been anywhere near us, lately. 
I am sorry we did not go into one of the watering-ports, in 

a9» 


342 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


stead of this open roadstead, for we must be at least twenty- 
seven hundred gallons short of what we ought to have, by my 
calculation ; and then we want a new set of light spars, 
pretty much all round ; and the lower hold hasn’t as many 
barrels of provisions in it, by thirty-odd, as I could wish to see 
there.” 

“ I leave these things to you, entirely, Stowel ; you will 
report in time to keep the ship efficient.” 

“ No fear of the Ciesar, sir ; for, between Mr. Blufi^ the 
master, and myself, we know pretty much all about her, 
though I dare say there are men in the fleet who can tell 
you more about the Dublin, or the Dover, or the York. We 
will drink the queen, and all the royal family, if you please, 
sir.” 

As usual, Bluewater merely bowed, for his companion re- 
quired no further acquiescence in his toasts. Just at that 
moment, too, it would have needed a general order, at least, 
to induce him to drink any of the family of the reigning 
house. 

“ Oakes must he well ofi', mid-channel, by this time. Cap- 
tain Stowel ?” 

“ I should think he might he, sir ; though I can’t say I 
took particular notice of the time he sailed. I dare say it’s 
all in the log. The Plantagenet is a fast ship, sir, and Captain 
Greenly understands her trim, and what she can do on all tacks ; 
and, yet, I do think His Majesty has one ship in this fleet that 
can find a Frenchman quite as soon, and deal with him, when 
found, quite as much to the purpose.” 

“ Of course you mean the Caesar ; — well, I’m quite of your 
way of thinking, though Sir Gervaise manages never to be in 
a slow ship. I suppose you know, Stowel, that Monsieur 
de Verviflin is out, and that we may expect to see or hear 
something of him, to-morrow.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


343 


“ Yes, sir, there is some such conversation in the ship, I 
know ; hut the quantity of galley-news is so great in this 
squadron, that I never attend much to what is said. One of 
the officers brought off a rumour, I believe, that there was a 
sort of a row in Scotland. By the way, sir, there is a super- 
numerary lieutenant on hoard, and as he has joined entirely 
M'ithout orders. I’m at a loss how to berth or to provision him. 
We can treat the gentleman hospitably to-night ; hut in the 
morning I shall he obliged to get him regularly on paper.” 

“ You mean Sir Wycherly Wychecomhe ; he shall come 
into my mess, rather than give you any trouble.” 

“ I shall not presume to meddle with any gentleman you 
may please to invite into your cabin, sir,” answered Stowel, 
with a stiff bow, in the way of apology. “ That’s what I al- 
w’ays tell Mrs. Stowel, sir ; — that my cabin is my own, and 
even a wife has no right to shake a broom in it.” 

“ Which is a great advantage to us seamen ; for it gives 
us a citadel to retreat to, when the outworks are pressed. 
You appear to take hut little interest in this civil war, 
Stowel !” 

“ Then it’s true, is it, sir ? I didn’t know hut it might turn 
out to he galley-news. Pray what is the rumpus all about. 
Admiral Bluewater? for, I never could get that story lidded 
properly, so as to set up the rigging, and have the spar well 
stayed in its place.” 

“ It is merely a war to decide who shall be king of En- 
gland ; nothing else, I do assure you, sir.” 

“ They’re an uneasy set ashore, sir, if the truth must he 
said of them ! We’ve got one king, already ; and on what 
principle does any man wish for more ? Now, there was Cap- 
tain Blakely, from the Elizabeth, on board of me this after 
noon ; and we talked the matter over a little, and both of ua 
concluded that they got these things up much as a matter of 


344 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


profit among the army contractors, and the dealers in warlike 
stores.’’ 

Bluewater listened with intense interest, for here was proof 
how completely two of his captains, at least, would he at his 
own command, and how little they would he likely, for a 
time, at least, to dispute any of his orders. He thought of Sir 
Keginald, and of the rapture with which he would have re- 
ceived this trait of nautical character. 

“ There are people who set their hearts on the result, not- 
withstanding,” carelessly observed the rear-admiral ; “ and 
some who see their fortunes marred or promoted, hy the suc- 
cess or downfall of the parties. They think de Vervillin 
is out on some errand connected with this rising in the 
north.” 

“ Well, I don’t see what he has got to do with the matter 
at all ; for, I don’t suppose that King Louis is such a fool as to 
expect to he king of England as well as king of France !” 

“ The dignity would he too much for one pair of shoulders 
to hear. As well might one admiral wish to command all 
the divisions of his own fleet, though they were fifty leagues 
asunder.” 

“ Or one captain two ships ; or what is more to the pur- 
pose, sir, one ship to keep two captains. We’ll drink to 
discipline, if you’ve no objection, sir. ’Tis the soul of order 
and quiet, ashore or afloat. For my part, I want no co-equal 
— I believe that’s the cant word they use on such occasions — 
hut I want no co-equal, in the Csesar, and I am unwilling to 
have one in the house at Greenwich ; though Mrs. Stowel 
thinks diflerently. Here’s my ship ; she’s in her place in the 
line ; it’s my business to see she is fit for any service that a 
first-class two-decker can undertake, and that duty I endeavour 
to perform ; and I make no doubt it is all the better performed 
because there’s no wife or co-equal aboard here Where the 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


345 


ship is to go, and ivlmt she is to do, are other matters, which I 
take from general orders, special orders, or signals. Let them 
act up to this principle in London, and we should hear no more 
of disturbances, north* or south.” 

“ Certainly, Stowel, your doctrine would make a quiet 
nation, as well as a quiet ship. I hope you do me the justice 
to think there is no co-equal in my commands !” 

“ That there is not, sir — and I have the honour to drink 
your health — that there is not. When we were in the Calypso 
together, I had the advantage ; and I must say that I never 
had a youngster under me who ever did his duty more cheer- 
fully. Since that day we’ve shifted places ; end for end, as 
one might say ; and I endeavour to pay you, in your own coin. 
There is no man whose orders I obey more willingly or more 
to my own advantage ; always excepting those of Admiral 
Oakes, who, being commander-in-chief, overlays us all with his 
anchor. We must dowse our peaks to his signals, though we 
can maintain, without mutinying, that the Ca3sar is as good a 
boat on or off a wind, as the Plantagenet, the best day Sir 
Jarvy ever saw.” 

“ There is no manner of doubt of that. You have all the 
notions of a true sailor, I find, Stowel ; obey orders before all 
other things. I am curious to know how our captains, gener- 
ally, stand affected to this claim which the Pretender has set 
up to the throne.” 

“ Can’t tell you, on my soul, sir ; though I fancy few of 
them give themselves any great anxiety in the matter. When 
the wind is fair we can run off large, and when it is foul we 
must haul upon a bowline, let who will reign. I was a young- 
ster under Q,ueen Anne, and she was a Stuart, I believe ; and 
I have served under the German family ever since ; and to be 
frank with you, Admiral Blue water, I see but little difference 
in the duty, the pay, or the rations. My maxim is to obey 


346 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


orders, and then I know the blame Avill fall on them that give 
them, if any thing goes wrong.” 

“We have many Scotchmen in the fleet, Stowel,” observed 
the rear-admiral, in a musing manner, like one who rather 
thought aloud than spoke. “ Several of the captains are from 
the north of Tweed.” 

“Ay, sir, one is pretty certain of meeting gentlemen from 
that part of the island, in almost all situations in life. I never 
have understood that Scotland had much of a navy in ancient 
times, and yet the moment old England has to pay for it, the 
lairds are willing enough to send their children to sea.” 

“ Nevertheless it must he owned that they make gallant 
and useful officers, Stowel.” 

“No doubt they do, sir ; but gallant and useful men are 
not scarce anywhere. You and I are too old and too expe- 
rienced, Admiral Bluewater, to put any faith in the notion 
that courage belongs to any particular part of the world, or 
usefulness either. I never fought a Frenchman yet that I 
thought a coward ; and, in my judgment, there are brave men 
enough in England, to command all her ships, and to fight 
them too.” 

“ Let this be so, Stowel, still we must take things as they 
come. What do you think of the night ?” 

“Dirty enough before morning, I should think, sir, though 
it is a little out of rule, that it does not rain with this wind, 
already. The next time we come-to. Admiral Bluewater, I 
intend to anchor with a shorter scope of cable than we have 
been doing lately ; for, I begin to think there 's no use in wet- 
ting so many yarns in the summer months. They tell me the 
York brings up always on forty fathoms.” 

“ That’s a short range, I should think, for a heavy ship. 
But here is a visiter.” 

The sentinel opened the cabin-door, and Lord Geoffrey, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


347 


with his cap fastened to his head by a pocket-handkerchief, 
and his face red with exposure to the wind, entered the 
cabin. 

“ Well,” said BlueWater, quietly ; “ what is the report from 
aloft ?” 

“ The Dover is running down athwart our forefoot, and 
nearing us fast, sir,” returned the midshipman. “ The York 
is close on our weather-beam, edging in to her station ; but I 
can make out nothing ahead of us, though I was on the yard 
twenty minutes.” 

“ Did you look well on the weather-beam, and thence for- 
ward to the lee-bow ?” 

“ I did, sir ; if any light is in view, better eyes than mine 
must find it.” 

Stowel looked from one to the other, as this short conver- 
sation was held ; but, as soon as there was a pause, he put in 
a word in behalf of the ship. 

“ You’ve been up forward, my lord ?” he said. 

“ Yes, I have. Captain Stowel.” 

“ And did you think of seeing how the heel of the top- 
gallant-mast stood it, in this sea ? Bluff tells me ’tis too loose 
to be fit for very heavy weather.” 

“ I did not, sir. I was sent aloft to look out for the ships 
of the commander-in-chief’s division, and didn’t think of the 
heel of the top-gallant-mast’s being too loose, at all.” 

“ Ay, that’s the way with all the youngsters, now-a-days. 
In my time, or even in you7'S, Admiral Bluewater, we never 
put our feet on a ratlin, but hands and eyes were at work, 
until we reached the halting place, even though it should be 
the truck. That is the manner to know what a ship is made 
of!” 

“ I kept my hands and eyes at work, too, Captain Stowel ; 
but it was to hold on well, and to look out well.” 


348 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ That will never do — ^that will never do, if you wish to 
make yourself a sailor. Begin with your own ship first ; learn 
all about her, then, when you get to he an admiral, as your 
father’s son, my lord, will be certain to become, it will be time 
enough to be inquiring about the rest of the fleet.” 

“ You forget. Captain Stowel — ” 

“ That will do. Lord Geoffrey,” Bluewater soothingly in- 
terposed, for he knew that the Captain preached no more than 
he literally practised ; “ if J am satisfied with your report, no 
one else has a right to complain. Desire Sir Wycherly Wyche- 
combe to meet me on deck, where w^e will now go, Stowel, 
and take a look at the weather for ourselves.” 

“ With all my heart. Admiral Bluewater, though I’ll just 
drink the First Lord’s health before we quit this excellent 
liquor. That youngster has stuff' in him, in spite of his nobil- 
ity, and by fetching him up, with round turns, occasionally, 1 
hope to make a man of him, yet.” 

“If he do not grow into that character, physically and 
morally, within the next few years, sir, he will be the first per- 
son of his family who has ever failed of it.” 

As Bluewater said this, he and the captain left his cabin, 
and ascended to the quarter-deck. Here Stowel stopped to 
hold a consultation with his first lieutenant, while the admiral 
went up the poop-ladder, and joined Cornet. The last had 
nothing new to communicate, and as he was permitted to 
go below, he was desired to send Wycherly up to the poop, 
where the young man would be expected by the rear-admi- 
ral. 

Some little time elapsed before the Virginian could be 
found ; no sooner was this effected, however, than he joined 
Bluewater. They had a private conversation of fully half an 
hour, pacing the poop the whole time, and then Cornet was 
summoned back, again, to his usual station. The latter im- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


349 


mediately received an order to acquaint Captain Stowel the 
rear-admiral desired that the Caesar might be hove-to, and to 
make a signal for the Druid 36, to come under the flag-ship's 
lee, and back her main-top-sail. No sooner did this order reach 
the quarter-deck than the watch was sent to the braces, and 
the main-yard was rounded in, until the portion of sail that 
was still set lay against the mast. This deadened the way of 
the huge body, which rose and fell heavily in the seas, as they 
washed under her, scarcely large enough to lift the burthen it 
imposed upon them. Just at this instant, the signal was 
made. 

The sudden check to the movement of the Csesar brought 
the Dublin booming up in the darkness, when putting her 
helm up, that ship surged slowdy past to leeward, resembling 
a black mountain moving by in the gloom. - She was hailed 
and directed to heave- to, also, as soon as far enough ahead. 
The Elizabeth followed, clearing the flag-ship by merely twenty 
fathoms, and receiving a similar order. The Druid had been 
on the admiral’s weather-quarter, but she now came gliding 
down, with the wind abeam, taking room to back her top-sail 
under the CsDsar’s lee-bow. By this time a cutter was in the 
water, rising six or eight feet up the black side of the ship, and 
sinking as low apparently beneath her bottom. Next, Wych- 
erly reported himself ready to proceed. 

“You will not forget, sir,” said Bluewater, “ any part of 
my commission ; but inform the commander-in-chief of the 
whole. It may be important that we understand each other 
fully. You wifi also hand him this letter which I have hastily 
written while the boat was getting ready.” 

“ I think I understand your wishes, sir ; — at least, I hope 
go ; — and I Avill endeavour to execute them.” 

“ God bless you. Sir Wycherly Wychecombe,” added Blue- 
water, with emotion. “ We may never meet again ; wo sailors 

30 


350 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


carry uncertain lives ; and we may be said to carry them in 
our hands.” 

Wycherly took his leave of the admiral, and he ran down 
the poop-ladder to descend into the boat. Twice he paused on 
the quarter-deck, however, in the manner of one who felt dis- 
posed to return and ask some explanation ; but each time he 
moved on, decided to proceed. 

It needed all the agility of our young sailor to get safely 
into the boat. This done, the oars fell and the cutter was 
driven swiftly away to leeward. In a few minutes, it shot 
beneath the lee of the frigate, and discharged its freight. 
Wycherly could not have been three minutes on the deck of 
the Druid, ere her yards were braced up, and her topsail filled 
with a heavy flap. This caused her to draw slowly ahead. 
Five minutes later, however, a white cloud was seen dimly 
fluttering over her hull, and the reefed mainsail was distended 
to the wind. The effect was so instantaneous that the frigate 
seemed to glide away from the flag-ship, and in a quarter of 
an hour, under her three top-sails double-reefed, and her 
courses, she was a mile distant on her weather-bow. Those 
who watched her movements without understanding them, 
observed that she lowered her light, and appeared to detach 
herself from the rest of the division. 

It was some time before the Caesar’s boat was enabled to 
pull up against the tide, wind, and sea. When this hard task 
was successfully accomplished, the ship filled, passed the Dub- 
lin and Elizabeth, and resumed her place in the line. 

Bluewater paced the poop an hour longer, having dis- 
missed his signal-officer and the quarter-masters to their ham- 
mocks. Even Stowel had turned in, nor did Mr. Bluff deem 
it necessary to remain on deck any longer. At the end of 
the hour, the rear-admiral bethought him of retiring too. 
Before he quitted the poop, however, he stood at the weath- 


o 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


351 


er-ladder, holding on to the mizzen-rigging, and gazing at the 
scene. 

The wind had increased, as had the sea, but it was not yet 
a gale. The York had long before hauled up in her station, a 
cable’s length ahead of the Caesar, and was standing on, under 
the same canvass as the flag-ship, looking stately and black. 
The Dover was just shooting into her berth, under the stand- 
ing sailing-orders, at the same distance ahead of the York ; 
visible, hut much less distinct and imposing. The sloop and 
the cutter were running along, under the lee of the heavy 
ships, a quarter of a mile distant, each vessel keeping her 
relative position, by close attention to her canvass. Further 
than this, nothing was in sight. The sea had that wild mix- 
ture of brightness and gloom, which belongs to the element 
when much agitated in a dark night, while the heavens were 
murky and threatening. ‘ 

Within the ship, all was still. Here and there a lantern 
threw its wavering light around, but the shadows of the masts 
and guns, and other objects, rendered this relief to the night 
trifling. The lieutenant of the watch paced the weather side 
of the quarter-deck, silent but attentive. Occasionally he 
hailed the look-outs, and admonished them to be vigilant, also, 
and at each turn he glanced upward to see how the top-sail 
stood. Four or five old and thoughtful seamen walked the 
waist and forecastle, but most of the watch were stowed be- 
tween the guns, or in the best places they could find, under 
the lee of the bulwarks, catching cat’s naps. This was an 
indulgence denied the young gentlemen, of whom one was on 
the forecastle, leaning against the mast, dreaming of home, 
one in the waist, supporting the nettings, and one walking the 
lee-side of the quarter-deck, his eyes shut, his thoughts con- 
fused, and his footing uncertain. As Bluewater stepped on the 
quarter-deck-ladder, to descend to his own cabin, the youngster 


352 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


hit his foot against an eye-bolt, and fetched way plumjD up 
against his superior. Blue water caught the lad in his arms, 
and saved him from a fall, setting him fairly on his feet before 
he let him go. 

“ ’Tis seven bells, Geoffrey,” said the admiral, in an under 
tone. “ Hold on for half an hour, longer, and then go dream 
of your dear mother.” 

Before the boy could recover himself to thank his superior, 
the latter had disappeared. 


. V- t t , 

, , 




CHAPTER XX. 


“ Yet notwithstanding, being incensed, he’s flint ; 

As humorous as winter, and as sudden 
As flaws congealed in the spring of day. 

His temper, therefore, must be well observed.” 

Shaespeark. 

The reader will remember that the wind had not become 
fresh when Sir Gervaise Oakes got into his barge, with the in- 
tention of carrying his fleet to sea. A retrospective glance at 
the state of the weather, will become necessary to the reader, 
therefore, in carrying his mind back to that precise period 
whither it has now become our duty to transport him in 
imagination. 

The vice-admiral governed a fleet on principles very dif- 
ferent fr-om those of Bluewater. While the last left so much 
to the commanders of the diflerent vessels, his friend looked 
into every thing himself. The details of the service he knew 
were indispensable to success on a larger scale, and his active 
mind descended into all these minutife, to a degree sometimes, 
that annoyed his captains. On the whole, however, he was 
sufficiently observant of that formidable barrier to excessive 
familiarity, and that great promoter of heart-burnings in a 
squadron, naval etiquette, to prevent any thing like serious mis- 
understandings, and the best feelings prevailed between him 
and the several magnates under his orders. Perhaps the 
circumstance that he was a fighting admiral contributed to 
this internal tranquillity ; for, it has been often remarked, that 
armies and fleets will both tolerate more in leaders that give 

30 * 


354 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


tli«rn plenty to do with the enemy, than in commanders who 
leave them inactive and less exposed. The constant encoun- 
ters with the foe would seem to let out all the superfluous 
quarrelsome tendencies. Nels.'U, to a certain extent, was an 
example of this influence in the English marine, Suffren^^ in 
that of France, and Preble, to a much greater degree than in 
either of the other cases, in our own. At all events, while 
most of his captains sensibly felt themselves less of com- 
manders, while Sir Gervaise was on board or around their 
ships, than when he was in the cabin of the Plantagenet, the 
peace was rarely broken between them, and he was generally 
beloved as well as obeyed. Bluewater was a more invariable 
favourite, perhaps, though scarcely as much respected ; and 
certainly not half as much feared. 

On the present occasion, the vice-admiral did uot pull 
through the fleet, without discovering the peculiar propensity 
to which we have alluded. In passing one of the ships, he 
made a sign to his coxswain to cause the boat’s crew to lay on 
their oars, when he hailed the vessel, and the following 
dialogue occurred. 

“ Carnatic, ahoy !” cried the admiral. 

“ Sir,” exclaimed the officer of the deck, jumping on a 
quarter-deck gun, and raising his hat. 

“ Is Captain Parker on board, sir ?” 

“ He is. Sir Gervaise ; will you see him, sir ?” 

A nod of the head sufficed to bring the said Captain Par- 


• Suffren, though one of the best sea-captains France ever possessed, was a man 
of extreme severity and great roughness of manner. Still he must have been a 
man of family, as his title of Bailli de Suffren, was derived from his being a Knight 
of Malta. It is a singular circumstance connected with the death of this distinguished 
officer, which occurred not long before the French revolution, that he disappeared 
in an extraordinary n*anner, and is buried no one knows where. It is supposed that 
be was killed by one of his own officers, in a rencontre in the streets of Paris, at 
night, and that the influence of the friends of the victor was sufficiently great to 
suppress inquiry. The cause of the quarrel is attributed to harsh treatment on 
service. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


355 


ker on deck, and to the gangway, where he could converse 
with his superior, without inconvenience to either. 

“ How do you do, Captain Parker?” — a certain sign Sir 
Gervaise meant to rap the other over the knuckles, else would 
it have been Parker. — How do you do. Captain Parker ? I 
am sorry to see you have got your ship too much down by 
the head, sir. She’ll steer off the wind, like a colt when he 
first feels the bridle ; now with his head on one side, and now 
on the other. You know I like a compact line, and straight 
wakes, sir,” 

“ I am well aware of that. Sir Gervaise,” returned Parker, 
a gray-headed, meek old man, who had fought his way up 
from the forecastle to his present honourable station, and, 
who, though brave as a lion before the enemy, had a particu- 
lar dread of all his commanders ; “ but we have been obliged 
to use more water aft than we could wish, on account of the 
tiers. We shall coil away the cables anew, and come at 
some of the leaguers forward, and bring all right again, in a 
week, I hope, sir.” 

“ A week ? — the d — 1, sir ; that will never do, when I ex- 
pect to see de Vervillin to-morroiv. Fill all your empty casks 
aft with salt-water, immediately ; and if that wont do, shift 
some of your shot forward. I know that craft of yours, well ; 
she is as tender as a fellow with corns, and the shoe musn’t 
pinch anywhere.” 

“ Very well. Sir Gervaise ; the ship shall be brought in 
trim, as .soon as possible.’*’ 

“ Ay, ay, sir, that is what I expect from every vessel, at 
all times ; and more especially when we are ready to meet an 
enemy. And, I say, Parker,'' — making a sign to his boat’s 
crew to stop rowing again — “ I say, Parker, I know you 
love brawn ; — I ’ll send you some that Galleygo tells me he 
has picked up, along-shore here, as soon as I get aboard. The 


356 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


fellow has been robbing all the hen-roosts in Devonshire, by 
his own account of the matter.” 

Sir Gervaise waved his hand, Parker smiled and bowed 
his thanks, and the two parted with feelings of perfect kind- 
ness, notwithstanding the little skirmish with which the 
interview had commenced. 

“ Mr. Williamson,” said Captain Parker to his first lieu- 
tenant, on quitting the gangway, “ you hear what the com- 
mander-in-chief says ; and he must be obeyed. I don't think 
the Carnatic would have sheered out of the line, even if she 
is a little by the head ; but have the empty casks filled, and 
bring her down six inches more by the stern.” 

“ That’s a good fellow, that old Parker,” said Sir Ger- 
vaise to his purser, whom he was carrying off good-naturedly 
to the ship, lest he might lose his passage ; “ and I wonder 
how he let his ship get her nose under water, in that fashion. 
I like to have him for a second astern ; for I feel sure he’d 
follow if I stood into Cherbourg, bows on ! Yes ; a good 
fellow is Parker ; and. Locker,” — to his own man, who was 
also in the boat ; — “ mind you send him two of the best 
pieces of that brawn — hey ! — hey ! — hey ! — what the d — 1 
has Lord Morganic ” — a descendant from royalty by the left 
hand, — “ been doing now ! That ship is kept like a tailor’s 
lay figure, just to stuff jackets and gim-cracks on her — Achil- 
les, there !” 

A quarter- master ran to the edge of the poop, and then 
turning, he spoke to his captain, who was walking the deck, 
and informed him that the commander-in-chief hailed the 
ship. The Earl of Morganic, a young man of four-and- 
twenty, who had succeeded to the title a few years before by 
the death of an elder brother, — the usual process by which 
an old peer is brought into the British navy, the work being 
too discouraging for those who have fortune before their 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


357 


eyes from the start, — now advanced to the quarter of the 
ship, bowed with respectful ease, and spoke with a self-pos- 
session that not one of the old commanders of the fleet would 
have dared to use. In general, this nobleman’s intercourse 
with his superiors in naval rank, betrayed the consciousness 
of his own superiority in civil rank ; but Sir Gervaise being 
of an old family, and quite as rich as he was himself, the 
vice-admiral commanded more of his homage than was cus- 
tomary. His ship was full of “ nobs,” as they term it in 
the British navy, or the sons and relatives of nobles ; and 
it was by no means an uncommon thing for her messes to 
have their jokes at the expense of even flag-officers, who 
w’ere believed to be a little ignorant of the peculiar sensibili- 

t ties that are rightly enough imagined to characterize social 
station. 

g “ Good-morning, Sir Gervaise,” called out this noble cap- 
tain ; “ I’m glad to see you looking so well, after our long 
cruise in the Bay ; I intended to have the honour to inquire 
after your health in person, this morning, but they told me you 
slept out of your ship. We shall have to hold a court on you, 
sir, if you fall much into that habit !” 

All within hearing smiled, even to the rough old tars, 
who were astraddle of the yards ; and even Sir Gervaise’s 
lip curled a little, though he was not exactly in a joking 
humour. 

“ Come, come, Morganic, do you let my habits alone, and 
look out for your own fore-top-mast. Why, in the name of 
seamanship, is that spar stayed forward in such a fashion, 
looking like a xebec’s foremast ?” 

“ Do you dislike it. Sir Gervaise ? — Now to our fancies 
aboard here, it gives the Achilles a knowing look, and we hope 
to set a fashion. By carrying the head-sails well forward, we 
help the ship round in a sea, you know, sir.” 


358 


THE TWO A D M I II A L S . 


“Indeed, I know no such thing, rny lord "What you gain 
after being taken aback, you lose in coming to the wind. If I 
had a pair of scales suitable to such a purpose, I would have 
all that hamper you have stayed away yonder over your bows, 
on the end of such a long lever, weighed, in order that you 
might learn what a beautiful contrivance you’ve invented, 

among you, to make a ship pitch in a head sea. Why, d e, 

if I think you’d lie-to, at all, with so much stuff aloft to knock 
you off to leeward. Come up, every thing, forward ; come up 
every thing, my lord, and bring the mast as near perpendicu- 
lar as possible. It’s a hard matter, I find, to make one of your 
new-fashioned captains keep things in their places.” 

“ Well, now. Sir Gervaise, I think the Achilles makes as 
good an appearance as most of the other ships ; and as to 
travelling or working, I do not know that she is either dull or 
clumsy !” 

“ She’s pretty well, Morganic, considering how many Bond- 
street ideas you have got among you ; but she’ll never do in a 
head sea, with that fore-top-mast threatening your knight- 
! heads. So get the mast up-and-down, again, as soon as con- 
venient, and come and dine with me, without further invita- 
tion, the first fine day we have at sea. I’m going to send 
Parker some brawn ; but, I’ll feed you on some of Galleygo’s 
turtle-soup, made out of pig’s heads.” 

“ Thank’ee, Sir Gervaise ; we’ll endeavour to straighten 
the stick, since you ivill have it so ; though, I confess I get 
tired of seeing every thing to-day, just as we had it yester- 
day.” 

“ Yes — yes — that’s the way with most of these St. James 
cruisers, continued the vice-admiral, as he rowed away. 

“ They want a fashionable tailor to rig a man-of-war, as they 
are rigged themselves. There’s my old friend and neighbour. 
Lord Scupperton— he’s taken a fancy to yachting, lately, and 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


359 


when his new brig was put into the water, Lady Scupperton 
made him send for an upholsterer from town to fit out the 
cabin ; and when the blackguard had surveyed the unfortunate 
craft, as if it were a country box, what does he do but give an 
opinion, that ‘ this here edifice, my lord, in my judgment, should 
be furnished in cottage style,’ — the vagabond !” 

This story, which was not particularly original, for Sir Ger- 
vaise himself had told it at least a dozen times before, put the 
admiral in a good humour, and he found no more fault with his 
captains, until he reached the Plantagenet. 

“ Daly/’ said the Earl of Morganic to his first lieutenant, 
an experienced old Irishman of fifty, who still sung a good song 
and told a good story, and what was* a little extraordinary for 
either of these accomplishments, knew how to take good care of 
a ship ; — “ Daly, I suppose we must humour the old gentleman, 
or he’ll be quarantining me, and that I shouldn’t particularly 
like on the eve of a general action ; so we’ll ease off forward, 
and set up the strings aft, again. Hang me if I think he 
could find it out if we did’nt, so long as we kept dead in his 
wake !” 

“ That wouldn’t be a very safe desait for Sir Jarvy, my 
lord, for he’s a wonderful eye for a rope ! Were it Admiral 
Blue, now. I’d engage to cruise in his company for a week, 
with my mizzen-mast stowed in the hold, and there should be 
no bother about the novelty, at all ; quite likely he’d be hail- 
ing us, and ask ‘ what brig’s that ?’ But none of these tricks 
will answer with t’other, who misses the whipping off the end 
of a gasket, as soon as any first lufi'of us all. And so I’ll just 
go about the business in earnest ; get the carpenter up with 
his plumb-bob, and set every thing as straight up-and-down as 
the back of a grenadier.” 

Lord Morganic laughed, as was usual with him when his 
lieutenant saw fit to be humorous ; and then his caprice in 


360 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


changing the staying of his masts, as well as the order w^hich 
countermanded it, was forgotten. 

The arrival of Sir Gervaise on board his own ship was 
always an event in the fleet, even though his absence had 
lasted no longer than twenty-four hours. The eflect was like 
that which is produced on a team of high-mettled cattle, when 
they feel that the reins are in the hands of an experienced and 
spirited coachman. 

“ Good-morning, Greenly, good-morning to you all, gentle- 
men,” said the vice-admiral, bowing to the quarter-deck in 
gross, in return for the ‘ present-arms,’ and rattling of drums, 
and lowering of hats that greeted his arrival ; “ a fine day, 
and it is likely we shall have a fresh breeze. Captain 
Greenly, your sprit-sail-yard, wants squaring by the lifts ; and. 
Bunting, make the Thunderer’s signal to get her fore-yard in 
its place, as soon as possible. She’s had it down long enough 
to make a new one, instead of merely fishing it. Are your 
boats all aboard. Greenly ?” 

“ All but your own barge. Sir Gervaise, and that is hooked 
on.” 

“ In with it, sir ; then trip, and we’ll be off. Monsieur 
de Vervillin has got some mischief in his head, gentlemen, and 
we must go and take it out of him.” 

These orders were promptly obeyed ; but, as the manner 
in which the Plantagenet passed out of the fleet, and led the 
other ships to sea, has been already related, it is unnecessary 
to repeat it. There was the usual bustle, the customary orderly 
confusion, the winding of calls, the creaking of blocks, and the 
swinging of yards, ere the vessels were in motion. As the breeze 
freshened, sail was reduced, as already related, until, by the time 
the leading ship was ten leagues at sea, all were under short 
canvass, and the appearance of a windy, if not a dirty night, 
had set in. Of course, all means of communication between 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


3G1 


the Plantagenet and the vessels still at anchor, had ceased, 
except by sending signals down the line ; hut, to those Sir 
Gervaise had no recourse, since he was satisfied Bluewater 
understood his plans, and he then entertained no manner of 
doubt of his friend’s willingness to aid them. 

Little heed was taken of any thing astern, by those on 
board the Plantagenet. Every one saw, it is true, that ship 
followed ship in due succession, as long as the movements of 
those in-shore could be perceived at all ; but the great interest 
centred on the horizon to the southward and eastward. In 
that quarter of the channel the French were expected to 
appear, for the cause of this sudden departure was a secret 
from no one in the fleet. A dozen of the best look-outs in the 
ship were kept aloft the whole afternoon, and Captain 
Greenly, himself, sat in the forward-cross-trees, with a glass, 
for more than an hour, just as the sun w^as setting, in order to 
sweep the horizon. Two or three sail were made, it is true, 
but they all proved to be English coasters ; Guernsey or 
Jerseymen, standing for ports in the west of England, most 
probably laden with prohibited articles from the country of the 
enemy. Whatever may be the dislike of an Englishman for a 
Frenchman, he has no dislike to the labour of his hands ; and 
there probably has not been a period since civilization has in- 
troduced the art of smuggling among its other arts, when 
French brandies, and laces, and silks, were not exchanged 
against English tobacco and guineas, and that in a contraband 
way, let it be in peace or let it be in war. One of the char- 
acteristics of Sir Gervaise Oakes was to despise all petty means 
of annoyance ; usually he disdained even to turn aside to chase 
a smuggler. Fishermen he never molested at all ; and, on the 
whole, he carried on a marine warfare, a century since, in a 
way that some of his succcessors might have imitated to 
advantage in our own times. Like that high-spirited Trish- 

31 


302 


THE TWO admirals. 


man, Caldwell,^ who conducted a blockade in the Chesa* 
peake, at the commencement of the revolution, with so much 
liberality, that his enemies actually sent him an invitation to 
a public dinner. Sir Gervaise knew how to distinguish between 
the combatant and the non-combatant, and heartily disdained 
all the money-making parts of his profession, though large 
sums had fallen into his hands, in this way, as pure God-sends. 
No notice was taken, therefore, of any thing that had not a 
warlike look ; the noble old ship standing steadily on towards 
the French coast, as the mastiff passes the cur, on his way to 
encounter another animal, of a mould and courage more 
worthy of his powers. 

“ Make nothing of ’em, hey ! Greenly,” said Sir Gervaise, 
as the captain came down from his perch, in consequence of 
the gathering obscurity of evening, followed by half-a-dozen 
lieutenants and midshipmen, who had been aloft as volunteers. 
“ Well, w'e know they cannot yet be to the westward of us, 
and by standing on shall be certain of heading them off, before 
this time six months. How beautifully all the ships behave, 
following each other as accurately as if Bluewater himself 
were aboard each vessel to conn her !” 

“ Yes, sir, they do keep the line uncommonly well, con- 
sidering that the tides run in streaks in the channel. I do 
think if we w^ere to drop a hammock overboard, that the Car- 
natic would pick it up, although she must be quite four leagues 
astern of us.” 

Let old Parker alone for that ! I’ll warrant you, he is 
never out of the w'ay. Were it Lord Morganic, now, in the 
Achilles, I should expect him to be away off here on our 
weather-quarter, just to show us how his ship can eat us out 


• The writer believes this noble-minded sailor to have been the late Admiral Sir 
nenjaqain Caldwell. It is scarcely necessary to say that the invitation could not 
bo accepted, though quite seriously given. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


3C3 


of the wind when he t7'ies:'ox away down yonder, under our 
lee, that we might understand how she falls off, when he dorCt 
try.” 

“ My lord is a gallant officer, and no had seaman, for his 
years, notwithstanding. Sir Gervaise,” observed Greenly, who 
generally took the part of the absent, whenever his superior 
felt disposed to berate them. 

“ I deny neither. Greenly, most particularly the first. I 
know very well, were 1 to signal Morganic, to run into Brest, 
he’d do it ; but whether he would go in, ring-tail-boom or jib- 
boom first, I could’nt tell till I saw it. Now you are a young- 
ish man yourself. Greenly — ” 

“ Every day of eight-and-thirty. Sir Gervaise, and a few 
months to spare ; and I care not if the ladies know it.” 

“ Poll ! — They like us old fellows, half the time, as well as 
they do the boys. But you are of an age not to feel time in 
your bones, and can see the folly of some of our old-fashioned 
notions, perhaps ; though you are not quite as likely to under- 
stand the fooleries that have come in, in your own day. Nothing 
is more absurd than to be experimenting on the settled prin- 
ciples of ships. They are machines. Greenly, and have their 
laws, just the same as the planets in the heavens. The idea 
comes from a fish, — head, run, and helm ; and all we have to 
do is to study the fishes in order to get the sort of craft we want. 
If there is occasion for hulk, take the whale, and you ^et a 
round bottom, full fore-body, and a clean run. When you 
want speed, models are plenty — take the dolphin, for instance, 
— and there you find an entrance like a wedge, a lean fore- 
body, and a run as clean as this ship’s decks. But some of 
our young captains would spoil a dolphin’s sailing, if they 
could breathe under water, so as to get at the poor devils. 
Look at their fancies ! The First Lord shall give one of his 
cousins a frigate, now, that is moulded after nature itself, as 


3G4 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


one might say ; with a bottom that would put a trout to shamo. 
Well, one of the first things the lad does, wdien he gets on 
board her, is to lengthen his gaff, perhaps, put a cloth or two 
in his mizzen, and call it a spanker, settle aw^ay the peak till it 
sticks out over his tafTrail like a sign-post, and then away he 
goes upon a wind, with his helm hard-up, bragging what a 
Weatherly craft he has, and how hard it is to make her even 
look to leeward.” 

“ I have known such sailors, I must confess. Sir Gervaise ; 
but time cures them of that folly.” 

“ That is to be hoped ; for what w'ould a man think of a 
fish to which nature had fitted a tail athwart-ships, and which 
was obliged to carry a fin, like a lee-board, under its lee-jaw, 
to prevent falling off dead before the wind !” 

Here Sir Gervaise laughed heartily at the picture of the 
awkward creature to which his own imagination had given 
birth ; Greenly joining in the merriment, partly from the od- 
dity of the conceit, and partly from the docility with which 
commander-in-chi ef’s jokes are usually received. The feeling 
of momentary indignation which had aroused Sir Gervaise to 
such an expression of his disgust at modern inventions, was 
appeased by this little success ; and, inviting his captain to sup 
with him, — a substitute for a dinner, — he led the way below 
in high good-humour, Galleygo having just announced that the 
table was ready. 

The convives on this occasion were merely the admiral 
himself. Greenly, and Atwood. The fare was substantial, 
rather than scientific ; but the service was rich ; Sir Gervaise 
uniformly eating off of plate. In addition to Galleygo, no less 
than five domestics attended to the wants of the party. As a 
ship of the Plantagenet’s size was reasonably steady at all 
times, a gale of wind excepted, when the lamps and candles 
were lighted, and the group was arranged, aided by the ad- 


THE TWO admirals. 


365 


mixture of rich furniture with frowning artillery and the other 
appliances of war, the great cabin of the Plantagenet was not 
without a certain air of rude magnificence. Sir Gervaise kept 
no less than three servants in livery, as a part of his personal 
establishment, tolerating Galleygo, and one or two more of 
the same stamp, as a homage due to Neptune. 

The situation not being novel to either of the party, and 
the day’s work having been severe, the first twenty minutes 
were pretty studiously devoted to the duty of “ restoration,” as 
it is termed by the great masters of the science of the table. 
By the end of that time, however, the glass began to circulate, 
though moderately, and with it tongues to loosen. 

“ Your health. Captain Greenly — Atwood, I remember 
you,” said the vice-admiral, nodding his head familiarly to his 
two guests, on the eve of tossing off a glass of sherry. “ These 
Spanish wines go directly to the heart, and I only wonder why 
a people who can make them, don’t make better sailors.” 

“ In the days of Columbus, the Spaniards had something 
to boast of in that way, too. Sir Gervaise,” Atwood remarked. 

“ Ay, but that was a long time ago, and they have got 
bravely over it. I account for the deficiencies of both the 
French and Spanish marines something in this way. Greenly. 
Columbus, and the discovery of America, brought ships and 
sailors into fashion. But a ship without an officer fit to com- 
mand her, is like a body without a soul. Fashion, however, 
brought your young nobles into their services, and men were 
given vessels because their fathers were dukes and counts, and 
not because they knew any thing about them.” 

“ Is our own service entirely free from this sort of favour- 
itism ?” quietly demanded the captain. 

“Far from it. Greenly; else would not Morganic have been 
made a captain at twenty, and old Parker, for instance, one 
only at fifty. But, somehow, our classes .slide into each other^ 

31 * 


366 


the two admirals. 


in a way that neutralizes, in a great degree, the effect of birth. 
Is it not so, Atwood ?” 

“ Some of our classes, Sir Gervaise, manage to dide into 
all the best places, if the truth must be said.” 

“ Well, that is pretty bold for a Scotchman !” rejoined the 
vice-admiral, good-humouredly. “ Ever since the accession 
of the house of Stuart, we’ve built a bridge across the Tweed 
that lets people pass in only one direction. I make no doubt 
this Pretender’s son will bring down half Scotland at his heels, 
to fill all the berths they may fancy suitable to their merits. 
It’s an easy way of paying bounty — promises.” 

“ This affair in the north, they tell me, seems a little 
serious,” said Greenly. “ I believe this is Mr. Atwood’s 
opinion ?” 

“You’ll find it serious enough, if Sir Gervaise’s notion about 
the bounty be true,” answered the immovable secretary. 
“Scotia is a small countiy, but it’s well filled with ‘braw 
sperits,’ if there’s an opening for them to prove it.” 

“ Well, well, this war between England and Scotland is 
out of place, while we have the French and Spaniards on our 
hands. Most extraordinary scenes have we had ashore, yonder, 
Greenly, with an old Devonshire baronet, who slipped and is 
off for the other world, while we were in his house.” 

“ Magrath has told me something of it, sir ; and, he tells 
me the fill-us-null-us — hang me if I can make out his gibberish, 
five minutes after it was told to me.” 

“ Filius nidlius, you mean ; nobody’s baby — the son of 
nobody — have you forgotten your Latin, man ?” 

“ Faith, Sir Gervaise, I never had any to forget. My father 
was a captain of a man-of-war before me, and he kept me afloat 
from the time I was five, down to the day of his death ; Latin 
was no part of my spoon-meat.” 

“ Ay — ay — my good fellow, I knew your father, and was 


THE TWO admirals. 


367 


in the third ship from him, in the action in which he fell,” re- 
turned the vice-admiral, kindly. “ Bluewater was just ahead 
of him, and we all loved him, as we did an elder brother. 
You were not promoted, then.” 

“ No, sir, I was only a midshipman, and didn’t happen to 
be in his own ship that day,” answered Greenly, sensibly 
touched with this tribute to his parent’s merit ; “ but I was old 
enough to remember how nobly you all behaved on the occa- 
sion. Well,” — slily brushing his eye with his hand, — “ Latin 
may do a schoolmaster good, but it is of little use on board 
ship. I never had but one scholar among all my cronies and 
intimates.” 

“ And who was he. Greenly ? You shouldn’t despise 
knowledge, because you don’t understand it. I dare say your 
intimate was none the worse for a little Latin — enough to go 
through nullus, nulla, nullum, for instance. Who was this 
intimate. Greenly ?” 

“ John Bluewater — handsome Jack, as he was called ; the 
younger brother of the admiral. They sent him to sea, to 
keep him out of harm’s way in some love affair ; and you may 
remember that while he was with the admiral, or Captain 
Bluewater, as he was then, I was one of the lieutenants. Al- 
though poor Jack was a soldier and in the guards, and he was 
four or five years my senior, he took a fancy to me, and we 
became intimate. He understood Latin, better than he did his 
own interests.” 

“ In what did he fail ? — Bluewater was never very com- 
municative to me about that brother.” 

“ There was a private marriage, and cross guardians, and 
the usual difficulties. In the midst of it all, poor John fell in 
battle, as you know, and his widow followed him to the grave, 
within a month or two. ’Twas a sad story all round, and I 
try to think of it as little as possible.” 


3C8 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ A private marriage 1 ’ repeated Sir Gervaise, slowly. 
“ Are you quite sure of that ? I don’t think Bluewater is 
aware of that circumstance ; at least, I never heard him allude 
to it. Could there have been any issue ?” 

“ No one can know it better than myself, as I helped to get 
the lady off, and was present at the ceremony. That much I 
knoiv. Of issue, I should think there was none ; though the 
colonel lived a year after the marriage. How far the admiral 
is familiar with all these circumstances I cannot say, as one 
would not like to introduce the particulars of a private marriage 
of a deceased brother, to his commanding officer.” 

“ I am glad there was no issue. Greenly — particular cir- 
cumstances make me glad of that. But we will change the 
discourse, as these family disasters make one melancholy ; and 
a melancholy dinner is like ingratitude to Him who bestows it.’^ 
The conversation now grew general, and in due season, in 
common with the feast, it ended. After sitting the usual time, 
the guests retired. Sir Gervaise then went on deck, and paced 
the poop for an hour, looking anxiously ahead, in quest of the 
French signal ; and, failing of discovering them, he was fain to 
seek his berth out of sheer fatigue. Before he did this, how- 
ever, the necessary orders were given ; and that to call him, 
should any thing out of the common track occur, was repeated 
no less than four times. 




CHAPTER XXL 


“Roll on, thou deep and dark-blue ocean— roll 
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; 

Man marks the earth with ruin — his control 
Stops with the shore upon the wat’ry plain 
The wrecks are all thy deed.” 

Childe Harold. 

It was broad day-light, when Sir Gervaise Oakes next 
appeared on deck. As the scene then offered to his view, as 
well as the impression it made on his mind, will sufficiently 
explain to the reader the state of affairs, some six hours later than 
the time last included in our account, we refer him to those for 
his own impressions. The wind now blew a real gale, though 
the season of the year rendered it less unpleasant to the feel- 
ings than is usual with wintry tempests. The air was even 
bland, and still charged with the moisture of the ocean ; though 
it (jarne sweeping athwart sheets of foam, with a fury, at 
moments, which threatened to carry the entire summits of 
waves miles from their beds, in spray. Even the aquatic birds 
seemed to be terrified, in the instants of the greatest power 
of the win Is, actually wheeling suddenly on their wings, and 
plunging into the element beneath to seek protection from the 
maddened efforts of that to which they more properly belonged. 

Still, Sir Gervaise saw that his ships bore up nobly against 
the fierce strife. Each vessel showed the same canvass ; viz. 
— a reefed fore-sail ; a small triangular piece of strong, heavy 
cloth, fitted between the end of the bowsprit and the head of 
the fore-top-mast ; a similar sail over the quarter-deck, between 
the mizzcn and main masts, and a close-reefed main-top-sail 


370 


the two admirals. 


Several times that morning, Captain Greenly had thought he 
should be compelled to substitute a lower surface to the wind 
than that of the sail last mentioned. As it was an important 
auxiliary, however, in steadying the ship, and in keeping her 
under the command of her helm, on each occasion the order 
had been delayed, until he now began to question whether the 
canvass could be reduced, without too great a risk to the men 
whom it would be necessary to send aloft. He had decided to 
let it stand or blow away, as fortune might decide. Similar 
reasoning left nearly all the other vessels under precisely the 
same canvass. 

The ships of the vice-admiral’s division had closed in the 
night, agreeably to an order given before quitting the anchor- 
age, which directed them to come within the usual sailing dis- 
tance, in the event of the weather’s menacing a separation. 
This command had been obeyed by the ships astern carrying 
sail hard, long after the leading vessels had been eased by 
reducing their canvass. The order of sailing was the Planta- 
genet in the van, and the Carnatic, Achilles, Thunderer, 
Blenheim, and Warspite following, in the order named ; some 
changes having been made in the night, in order to bring the 
ships of the division into their fighting-stations, in a line ahead, 
the vice-admiral leading. The superiority of the Plantagenet 
was a little apparent, notwithstanding ; the Carnatic alone, 
and that only by means of the most careful watching, being 
able to keep literally in the commander-in-chief s wake; all 
the other vessels gradually but almost imperceptibly setting to 
leeward of it. These several circumstances struck Sir Ger- 
vaise, the moment his foot touched the poop, where he found 
Greenly keeping an anxious look-out on the state of the 
weather and the condition of his own ship ; leaning at the same 
time, against the spanker-boom to steady himself in the gusts 
of the gale. The vice-admiral braced his own well-knit and 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


371 


compact frame, by spreading his legs ; then he turned his 
handsome but weather-beaten face towards the line, scanning 
each ship in succession, as she lay over to the wind, and came 
wallowing on, shoving aside vast mounds of water with her 
bows, her masts describing short arcs in the air, and her hull 
rolling to windward, and lurching, as if boring her way 
through the ocean. Galleygo, who never regarded himself as 
a steward in a gale of wind, was the only other person on the 
poop, whither he went at pleasure by a sort of imprescriptible 
right. 

“ Well done, old Planter !” cried Sir Gervaise, heartily, as 
soon as his eye had taken in the leading peculiarities of the 
view. “ You see. Greenly, she has every body but old Parker 
to leeward, and she w'ould have him there, too, but he would 
carry every stick he has, out of the Carnatic, rather than not 
keep his berth. Look at Master Morganic ; he has his main 
course close-reefed on the Achilles, to luff into his station, and 
I’ll warrant you will get a good six months’ wear out of that 
ship in this one gale ; loosening her knees, and jerking her 
spars like so many whip-handles ; and all for love of the new 
fashion of rigging an English two-decker like an Algerine 
xebec ! W^ell, let him tug his way up to windward. Bond- 
street fashion, if he likes the fun. What has become of the 
Chloe, Greenly ?” 

“ Here she is, sir, quite a league on our lee-bow, looking 
out, according to orders.” 

“ Ay, that is her work, and she’ll do it effectually. — But I 
don’t see the Driver !” 

“ She’s dead ahead sir,” answered Greenly, smiling ; “ lier 
orders being rather more difficult of execution. Her station 
would be off yonder to windward, half a league ahead of us ; 
but it’s no easy matter to get into that position. Sir Gervaisei 
when the Plantagenet is really in earnest.” 


372 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Sir Gervaise laughed, and rubbed bis hands, then be 
turned to look for the Active, the only other vessel of his 
division. This little cutter was dancing over the seas, half 
the time under water, notwithstanding, under the head of her 
mainsail, broad off, on the admiral’s weather-beam ; finding 
no difficulty in maintaining her station there, in the absence of 
all top-hamper, and favoured by the lowness of her hull. After 
this he glanced upward at the sails and spars of the Planta- 
genet, which he studied closely. 

“No signs of de Vervillin, hey ! Greenly ?” the admiral 
asked, when his survey of the whole fleet had ended. “ I was 
in hopes we might see something of him, when the light re- 
turned this morning.” 

“ Perhaps it is quite as well as it is. Sir Gervaise,” returned 
the captain. “ We could do little besides look at each other, 
in this gale, and Admiral Blue water ought to join before I 
should like even to do that"' 

“ Think you so, Master Greenly ! — There you are mistaken, 
then ; for I’d lie by him, were 1 alone in this ship, that I 
might know where he was to be found as soon as the w'eather 
would permit us to have something to say to him.” 

These words were scarcely uttered, when the look-out in 
the forward cross-trees, shouted at the top of his voice, “ sail- 
ho !” At the next instant the Chloe fired a gun, the report 
of which was just heard amid the roaring of the gale, though 
the smoke was distinctly seen floating above the mists of the 
ocean ; she also set a signal at her naked mizzen-top-gallant- 
mast-head. 

“ Run below, young gentleman,” said the vice-admiral, 
advancing to the break of the poop and speaking to a midship- 
man on the quarter-deck ; “ and desire Mr. Bunting to make 
his appearance. The Chloe signals us — tell him not to look 
for his knee-buckles.” 


THE TWO admirals. 3*73 

A century since, the last injunction, though still so much 
in use on ship-hoard, was far more literal than it is to-day, 
nearly all classes of men possessing the articles in question, 
though not invariably wearing them when at sea. The mid- 
shipman dove below, however, as soon as the words were out 
of his superior’s mouth ; and, in a very few minutes. Bunting 
appeared, having actually stopped on the main-deck ladder to 
assume his coat, lest he might too unceremoniously invade the 
sacred precincts of the quarter-deck, in his shirt-sleeves. 

“ There it is. Bunting,” said Sir Gervaise, handing the 
lieutenant the glass ; “ two hundred and twenty-seven — ‘ a 
large sail ahead,’ if I remember right.” 

“ No, Sir Gervaise, ‘ sails ahead the number of them to 
follow. Hoist the answering flag, quarter-master.” 

“ So much the better ! So much the better. Bunting ! 
The number to follow ? Well, we'll follow the number, let it 
be greater or smaller. Come, sirrah, bear a hand up with 
your answering flag.” 

The usual signal that the message was understood was 
now run up between the masts, and instantly hauled down 
again, the flags seen in the Chloe descending at the same mo- 
ment. 

“ Now for the number of the sails, ahead,” said Sir Ger- 
vaise, as he, Greenly, and Bunting, each levelled a glass at 
the frigate, on board which the next signal was momentarily 
expected. “ Eleven, by George !” 

“ No, Sir Gervaise,” exclaimed Greenly, “ I know better 
than that. Red above, and blue beneath, with the distinguish- 
ing pennant beneath, make fourteen, in our books, now !” 

“ Well, sir, if they are forty, we’ll go nearer and see of 
M^hat sort of stuff they are made. Show your answering flag, 
Bunting, that we may know what else the Chloe has to tell 
us.” 

82 


374 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


This was done, the frigate hauling down her signals in 
haste, and showing a new set as soon as possible. 

“ What now. Bunting ? — what now. Greenly ?” demanded 
Sir Gervaise, a sea having struck the side of the ship and 
thrown so much spray into his face as to reduce him to the 
necessity of using his pocket-handkerchief, at the very moment 
he was anxious to be looking through his glass. “ What do 
you make of that, gentlemen ?” 

“ I make out the number to be 382,” answered Greenly ; 
“ but what it means, I know not.” 

“ ‘ Strange sails, enemies,^ ” read Bunting from the book. 
“ Show the answer, quarter-master.” 

“ We hardly w^anted a signal for that, Greenly, since 
there can be no friendly force, hereaway ; and fourteen sail, 
on this coast, always means mischief What says the Chloe 
next ?” 

“ ‘ Strange sails on the larboard tack, heading as fol- 
lows.’ ” 

‘“By George, crossing our course ! — We shall soon see them 
from deck. Do the ships astern notice the signals ?” 

“ Everyone of them. Sir Gervaise,” answered the captain ; 
“ the Thunderer has just lowered her answering flag, and the 
Active is repeating. I have never seen quarter-masters so 
nimble !” 

“ So much the better — so much the better — down he 
comes ; stand by for another.” 

After the necessary pause, the signal to denote the point of 
the compass was shown from the Chloe. 

“ Heading how. Bunting ?” the vice-admiral eagerly in- 
quired. “ Heading how, sir ?” 

“ North- west-and-by-north,” or as Bunting pronounced it, 
“ nor-west-and-by-noathe, I believe, sir, — no, I am mistaken, 
Sir Gervaise ; it is nor-nor-west.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


375 


“ J ammed up like ourselves, hard on a wind I This 
gale comes directly from the broad Atlantic, and one party is 
crossing over to the north and the other to the south shore. 
We mii&t meet, unless one of us run away — hey ! Greenly 

** True enough. Sir Gervaise ; though fourteen sail is rather 
an awkward odds for seven.” 

“ You forget the Driver and Active, sir ; we’ve nine; nine 
hearty, substantial British cruisers.” 

“ To wit : six ships of the line, one frigate, a sloop, and a 
cutter^'' laying heavy emphasis on the two last vessels. 

“ What does the Chloe say now. Bunting ? That we’re 
enough for the French, although they are two to one ?” 

“ Not exactly that, I believe. Sir Gervaise. ‘ Five more 
sail ahead.’ They increase fast, sir.” 

“ Ay, at that rate, they may indeed grow too strong for 
us,” answered Sir Gervaise, with more coolness of manner ; 
“ nineteen to nine are rather heavy odds. I wish we had 
Bluewater here ?” 

“ That is what I was about to suggest. Sir Gervaise,” ob- 
served the captain. “ If we had the other division, as some 
of the Frenchmen are probably frigates and corvettes, we 
might do better. Admiral Bluewater cannot be far from us ; 
somew'here down here, towards north-east — or nor-nor-east. 
By waring round, I think w^e should make his division in the 
course of a couple of hours.” 

“ What, and leave to Monsieur de Yervillin the advantage 
of swearing he frightened us away ! No — no — Greenly ; we 
will first pass him fairly and manfully, and that, too, within 
reach of shot ; and then it will be time enough to go round 
and look after our friends.” 

“ Will not that be putting the French exactly between our 
two divisions. Sir Gervaise, and give him the advantage of 
dividing our force. If he stand far, on a nor-nor-west course. 


s'ze 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


I think he will infallibly get between us and Admiral Blue 
water.” 

“ And what will he gain by that, Greenly ? — What, ac- 
cording to your notions of matters and things, will be the 
great advantage of having an English fleet on each side of 
him ?” 

“ Not much, certainly, Sir Gervaise,” answered Greenly, 
laughing ; “if these fleets were at all equal to his own. But 
as they will be much inferior to him, the Comte may manage 
to close with one division, while the other is so far off as to 
be unable to assist ; and one hour of a hot fire may dispose 
of the victory.” 

“All this is apparent enough. Greenly ; yet I could hardly 
brook letting the enemy go scatheless. So long as it blows 
as it does now, there will not be much fighting, and there 
can be no harm in taking a near look at M.'de Vervillin. 
In half an hour, or an hour at most, we must get a sight oi 
him from off deck, even with this slow headway of the two 
fleets. Let them heave the log, and ascertain how fast we 
go, sir.” 

“ Should we engage the French in such weather. Sir Ger- 
vaise,” answered Greenly, after giving the order just men- 
tioned ; “it would be giving them the very advantage they 
like. They usually fire at the spars, and one shot would do 
more mischief, with such a strain on the masts, than half-a- 
dozen in a moderate blow.” 

“ That will do. Greenly — that will do,” said the vice-admi- 
ral, impatiently ; “ if I didn’t so well know you, and hadn’t seen 
you so often engaged, I should think you were afraid of these 
nineteen sail. You have lectured long enough to render me 
prudent, and we’ll say no more.” 

Here Sir Gervaise turned on his heel, and began to pace 
the poop, for he was slightly vexed, though not angered. Such 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


^11 


little dialogues often occurred between him and his captain, 
the latter knowing that his commander’s greatest professional 
failing was excess of daring, while he felt that his own reputa- 
tion was too well established to be afraid to inculcate prudence. 
jSText to the honour of the flag, and his own perhaps, Greenly 
felt the greatest interest in that of Sir Gervaise Oakes, under 
whom he had served as midshipman, lieutenant, and captain ; 
and this his superior knew, a circumstance that would have 
excused far greater liberties. After moving swiftly to and fro 
several times, the vice-admiral began to cool, and he forgot 
this passing ebullition of quick feelings. Greenly, on the other 
hand, satisfied that the just mind of the commander-in-chief 
would not fail to appreciate facts that had been so plainly 
presented to it, was content to change the subject. They con- 
versed together, in a most friendly manner. Sir Gervaise being 
even unusually frank and communicative, in order to prove he 
was not displeased, the matter in discussion being the state of 
the ship and the situation of the crew. 

“ You are always ready for battle, Greenly,” the vice- 
admiral said, smilingly, in conclusion ; “ when there is a 
necessity ; and always just as ready to point out the inex- 
pediency of engaging, where you fancy nothing is to be gained 
by it. You would not have me run away from a shadow, 
however ; or a signal ; and that is much the same thing : so 
we will stand on, until we make the Frenchmen fairly from 
ofF-deck, w’hen it will be time enough to determine what shall 
come next.” 

“ Sail-ho !” shouted one of the look-outs from aloft, a cry 
that immediately drew all eyes towards the mizzen-top-mast- 
cross-trees, whence the sound proceeded. 

The wind blew too fresh to render conversation, even by 
means of a trumpet, easy, and the man was ordered down to 
give an account of what he had seen. Of course he first 


32 * 


3V8 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


touched the poop-deck, where he was met by the admiral and 
captain, the officer of the w’atch, to whom he properly be- 
longed, giving him up to the examination of his two superiors, 
without a grimace. 

“ Where-away is the sail you’ve seen, sir ?” demanded Sir 
Gervaise a little sharply, for he suspected it was no more than 
one of the ships ahead, already signalled. “ Down yonder to 
the southward and eastward — hey ! sirrah ?” 

“ No, Sir Jarvy,” answered the top-man, hitching his 
trowsers wdth one hand, and smoothing the hair on his fore- 
head with the other ; “ but out here, to the nor’ard and 
west’ard, on our weather-quarter. It’s none o’ them French 
chaps as is wdth the County of Fairvillian,” — for so all the 
common men of the fleet believed their gallant enemy to be 
rightly named, — “ but is a square-rigged craft by herself, 
jammed up on a wind, pretty much like all on us.” 

“ That alters the matter. Greenly ! How do you know 
she is square-rigged, my man ?” 

“ Why, Sir Jarvy, your honour, she’s under her fore and 
main- taw-sails, close-reefed, with a bit of the mainsail set, as 
well as I can make it out, sir.” 

“ The devil she is ! It must be some fellow in a great 
hurry, to carry that canvass in this blow ! Can it be possible. 
Greenly, that the leading vessel of Bluewater is heaving in 
sight ?” 

“ I rather think not. Sir Gervaise ; it would be too far to 
windward for any of his two-deckers. It may turn out to be 
a look-out ship of the French, got round on the other tack to 
keep her station, and carrying sail hard, because she dislikes 
our appearance.” 

“ In that case she must elaw w'^ell to windward to escape 
us ! What’s your name, my lad — Tom Davis, if I’m not 
mistaken ?” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


379 


“ No, Sir Jarvy, it’s Jack Brown ; which is much the 
same, your honour. We’s no ways partic’lar about names.” 

“ Well, Jack, does it blow hard aloft ? So as to give you 
any trouble in holding on ?” 

“ Nothing to speak on, Sir Jarvy. A’ter cruising a winter 
and spring in the Bay of Biscay, I looks on this as no more nor 
a puff. Half a hand will keep a fellow in his berth, aloft.” 

“ Galley go — take Jack Brown below to my cabin, and give 
him a fresh nip in his jigger — he’ll hold on all the better for 
it.” 

This was Sir Gervaise’s mode of atoning for the error in 
doing the man injustice, by supposing he was mistaken about 
the new sail, and Jack Brown went aloft devoted to the 
commander-in-chief. It costs the great and powerful so little 
to become popular, that one is sometimes surprised to find that 
any are otherwise ; hut, when we remember that it is also 
their duty to he just, astonishment ceases ; justice being pre- 
cisely the quality to which a large portion of the human race 
are most averse. 

Half an hour passed, and no further reports were received 
from aloft. In a few minutes, however, the Warspite sig- 
nalled the admiral, to report the stranger on her weather- 
quarter, and, not long after, the Active did the same. Still 
neither told his character ; and the course being substantially 
the same, the unknown ship approached but slowly, notwith- 
standing the unusual quantity of sail she had set. At the end 
of the period mentioned, the vessels in the south-eastern board 
began to be visible from the deck. The ocean was so white 
with foam, that it was not easy to distinguish a ship, under 
short canvass, at any great distance ; hut, by the aid of 
glasses, both Sir Gervaise and Greenly satisfied themselves 
that the number of the enemy at the southward amounted to 
just twenty ; one more having hove in sight, and •been sig- 


380 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


nailed by the Chloe, since her first report. Several of these 
vessels, however, were small ; and, the vice-admiral, after a 
long and anxious survey, lowered his glass and turned to his 
captain in order to compare opinions. 

“ Well, Greenly,” he asked, “ what do you make of them, 
now? — According to my reckoning, there are -thirteen of the 
line, two frigates, four corvettes, and a lugger ; or twenty sail 
in all.” 

“ There can be no doubt of the twenty sail. Sir Gervaise, 
though the vessels astern are still too distant to speak of their 
size. I rather think it will turn out fourteen of the line and 
only three frigates.” 

“ That is rather too much for us, certainly, without ^Blue- 
water. His five ships, now, and this westerly position, would 
make a cheering prospect for us. We might stick by Mr. de 
Vervillin until it moderated, and then pay our respects to 
him. What do you say to that, Greenly ?” 

“ That it is of no great moment. Sir Gervaise, so long as 
the other division is not with us. But yonder are signals 
flying on board the Active, the Warspite, and the Blenheim.” 

“ Ay, they’ve something to tell us of the chap astern and 
to windward. Come, Bunting, give us the news.” 

“ ‘ Stranger in the northwest shows the Druid’s number ;’ ’ 
the signal-officer read mechanically from the book. 

“ The deuce he does ! Then Blue water cannot be far off. 
Let Dick alone for keeping in his proper place ; he has an 
instinct for a line of battle, and I never knew him fail to be in 
tlie very spot I could wish to have him, looking as much at 
home, as if his ships had all been built there ! The Druid’s 
number ! The Ca3sar and the rest of them are in a line 
ahead, further north, heading up well to windward even of our 
own wake. This puts the Comte fairly under our lee.” 

But Greenly was far from being of a temperament as 


T il E TWO ADMIRALS. 


381 


sanguine as that of the vice-admiral’s. He did not like the 
circumstance of the Druid’s being alone visible, and she, too, 
under what in so heavy a gale, might be deemed a press of 
canvass. There was no apparent reason for the division’s 
carrying sail so hard, while the frigate would be obliged to 
do it, did she wish to overtake vessels like the Plantagenet 
and her consorts. He suggested, therefore, the probability 
that the ship was alone, and that her object might he to speak 
them. 

“ There is something in what you say. Greenly,” answered 
Sir Gervaise, after a minute’s reflection ; “ and we must look 
into it. If Denham doesn’t give us any thing new from the 
Count to change our plans, it may be well to learn what the 
Druid is after.” 

Denham was the commander of the Chloe, which ship, a 
neat six-and-thirty, was pitching into the heavy seas that now 
came rolling in heavily from the broad Atlantic, the water 
streaming from her hawse-holes, as she rose from each plunge, 
like the spouts of a whale. This vessel, it has been stated, 
was fully a league ahead and to leeward of the Plantagenet, 
and consequently so much nearer to the French, who were 
approaching from that precise quarter of the ocean, in a long 
single line, like that of the English ; a little relieved, how- 
ever, by the look-out vessels, all of which, in their case, were 
sailing along on the weather-beam of their friends. The 
distance was still so great, as to render glasses necessary in 
getting any very accurate notions of the force and the point of 
sailing of Monsieur de Vervillin’s fleet, the ships astern being 
yet so remote as to require long practice to speak with any 
certainty of their characters. In nothing, notwithstanding, 
was the superior practical seamanship of the English more 
apparent, than in the manner in which these respective lines 
were formed. That of Sir Gervaise Oakes was compact, each 


382 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


ship being as near as might be a cable’s length distant from 
her seconds, ahead and astern. This was a point on which 
the vice-admiral prided himself ; and by compelling his 
captains rigidly to respect their line of sailing, and by keeping 
the same ships and officers, as much as possible, under his 
orders, each captain of the fleet had got to know his own 
vessel’s rate of speed, and all the other qualities that were ne- 
cessary to maintain her precise position. All the ships being 
Weatherly, though some, m a slight degree, were more so than 
others, it was easy to keep the line in weather like the present, 
the wind not blowing sufficiently hard to render a few cloths 
more or less of canvass of any very great moment. If there 
was a vessel sensibly out of her place, in the entire line, it was 
the Achilles ; Lord Morganic not having had time to get all 
his forward spars as far aft as they should have been ; a cir- 
cumstance that had knocked him off a little more than had 
happened to the other vessels. Nevertheless, had an air-line 
been drawn at this moment, from the mizzen-top of the Plan- 
tagenet to that of the Warspite, it would have been found to 
pass through the spars of quite half the intermediate vessels, 
and no one of them all would have been a pistol-shot out of 
the way. As there were six intervals between the vessels, 
and each interval as near as could be guessed at was a cable’s 
length, the extent of the whole line a little exceeded three- 
quarters of a mile. 

On the other hand, the French, though they preserved a 
very respectable degree of order, were much less compact, and 
by no means as methodical in their manner of sailing. Some of 
their ships were a quarter of a mile to leeward of the line, and 
the intervals were irregular and ill-observed. These circum- 
stances arose from several causes, neither of which proceeded 
from any fault in the commander-in-chief, Avho was both an 
experienced seaman and a skilful tactician. But his captains 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


3S3 


were new tc each other, and some of them were recently ap- 
pointed to their ships ; it being just as much a matter of course 
that a seaman should ascertain the qualities of his vessel, by 
familiarity, as that a man should learn the character of his wife, 
in the intimacy of wedlock. 

At the precise moment of which w^e are now writing, the 
Chloe might have been about a league from the leading vessel 
of the enemy, and her position to leeward of her own fleet 
threatened to bring her, half an hour later, within range of the 
Frenchmen’s guns. This fact was apparent to all in the 
squadron ; still the frigate stood on, having been placed in that 
station, and the w^hole being under the immediate supervision 
of the commander-in-chief. 

“ Denham will have a w^arm berth of it, sir, should he 
stand on much longer,” said Greenly, when ten minutes more 
had passed, during which the ships had gradually drawn 
nearer. 

“ I was hoping he might get between the most weatherly 
French frigate and her line,” answered Sir Gervaise ; “ when 
I think, by edging rapidly away, we could take her alive, with 
the Plantagenet. ” 

“ In which case we might as well clear for action ; such 
a manoeuvre being certain to bring on a general engage- 
ment.” 

“No no — I’m not quite mad enough for that. Master 

Telemachus ; but, we can wait a little longer for the chanees. 
How many flags can you make out among the enemy, 
Bunting ?” 

“ I see but two. Sir Gervaise ; one at the fore, and the 
other at the mizzen, like our own. I can make out, now, 
only twelve ships of the line, too ; neither of which is a three- 
decker.” 

“ So much for rumour ; as 


flagrant a liar as ever wagged a 


384 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


tongue ! Twelve ships on two decks, and eight frigates, sloops 
and luggers. There can be no great mistake in this.” 

“ I think not. Sir G ervaise ; their commander-in-chief is 
in the fourth ship from the head of the line. His flag is just 
discernible, by means of our best glass. Ay, there goes a sig- 
nal, this instant, at the end of his gaff!” 

“ If one could only read French now. Greenly,” said the 
vice-admiral, smiling ; “we might get into some of Mr. de 
Vervillin’s secrets. Perhaps it’s an order to go to quarters or 
to clear ; look out sharp. Bunting, for any signs of such a 
movement. What do you make of it ?” 

“ It’s to the frigates. Sir Gervaise ; all of which answer, 
while the other vessels do not.” 

“ We want no French to read that signal, sir,” put in 
Greenly; “the frigates themselves telling us what it means. 
Monsieur de Vervillin has no idea of letting the Plantagenet 
take any thing he has, alive.'' 

This was true enough. Just as the captain spoke, the ob- 
ject of the order was made sufliciently apparent, by all the 
light vessels to windward of the French fleet, bearing up to- 
gether, until they brought the wind abaft their beams, when 
away they glided to leeward, like floating objects that have 
suddenly struck a swift current. Before this change in their 
course, these frigates and corvettes had been struggling along, 
the seas meeting them on their weather-bows, at the rate of about 
two knots or rather less ; whereas, their speed was now quad- 
rupled, and in a few minutes, the whole of them had sailed 
through the diflerent intervals in their main line, and had 
formed as before, nearly half a league to leeward of it. Here, 
in the event of an action, their principal duties would have 
been to succour crippled ships that might be forced out of their 
allotted stations during the combat. All this Sir Gervaise 
viewed with disgust. He had hoped that his enemy might 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


385 


have presumed on the state of the elements, and suffered his 
light vessels to maintain their original positions. 

“ It would be a great triumph to us, Greenly,” he said, 
“ if Denham could pass without shifting his berth. There 
would be something manly and seamanlike in an inferior fleet’s 
passing a superior, in such a style.” 

“ Yes, sir, though it might cost us a fine frigate. The 
count can have no difficulty in fighting his weather main-deck 
guns, and a discharge from two or three of his leading vessels 
might cut away some spar that Denham would miss sadly, just 
at such a moment.” 

Sir Gervaise placed his hands behind his back, paced the 
deck a minute, and then said decidedly — 

“ Bunting, make the Chloe’s signal to ware — tacking in 
this sea, and under that short canvass, is out of the question.” 

Bunting had anticipated this order, and had even ventured 
clandestinely to direct the quarter-masters to bend on the ne- 
cessary flags ; and Sir Gervaise had scarcely got the words 
out of his mouth, before the signal was abroad. The Chloe 
was equally on the alert ; for she too each moment expected 
the command, and ere her answering flag was seen, her helm 
was up, the mizen-staysail down, and her head falling oft' 
rapidly towards the enemy. This movement seemed to be ex- 
pected all round — and it certainly had been delayed to the 
very last moment — for the leading French ship fell off three or 
four points, and as the frigate was exactly end-on to her, let 
fly the contents of all the guns on her forecastle, as well as of 
those on her main-deck, as far aft as they could be brought to 
bear. One of the top-sail-sheets of the frigate was shot away 
by this rapid and unexpected fire, and some little damage was 
done to the standing rigging ; but luckily, none of immediate 
moment. Captain Denham was active, and the instant he 
found his topsail flapping, he ordered it clewed up, and the 

33 


88G 


T H E 


TWO ADMIRALS. 


mainsail loosed. The latter was set, close-reefed, as the ship 
came to the wind on the larboard tack, and by the time every 
thing was braced up and hauled aft, on that tack, the main- 
top-sail was ready to be sheeted home, anew. During the 
few minutes that these evolutions required, Sir Gervaise kept 
his eye riveted on the vessel ; and when he saw her fairly 
round, and trimmed by the wind, again, with the mainsail 
dragging her ahead, to own the truth, he felt mentally re- 
lieved. 

“ Not a minute too soon. Sir Gervaise,” observed the cau- 
tious Greenly, smiling. “ I should not be surprised if Denham 
hears more from that fellow at the head of the French line. 
His weather chase-guns are exactly in a range with the frigate, 
and the two upper ones might be worked, well enough.” 

“I think not. Greenly. The forecastle gun, possibly; 
scarcely any thing below it.” 

Sir Gervaise proved to be partly right and partly wrong. 
The Frenchman did attempt a lire with his main-deck gun ; 
but, at the first plunge of the ship, a sea slapped up against 
her weather-bow, and sent a column of water through the 
port, that drove half its crew into the lee-scuppers. In the 
midst of this Avater-spout, the gun exploded, the loggerhead 
having been applied an instant before, giAung a sort of chaotic 
wildness to the scene in-hoard. This satisfied the party below; 
though that on the forecastle fared better. The last fired their 
gun several times, and always Avithout success. This failure 
proceeded from a cause that is seldom sufficiently estimated 
by nautical gunners ; the shot having swerved from the line 
of sight, by the force of the Aviiid against which it flew, two 
or three hundred feet, by the time it had gone the mile that 
lay between the vessels. Sir Gervaise anxiously watched the 
efibct of the fire, and perceiving that all the shot fell to lee- 
ward of the Chloe, he was no longer uneasy about that vessel. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


387 


and he began to turn his attention to other and more import* 
ant concerns. 

As we are now approaching a moment when it is neces- 
sary that the reader should receive some tolerably distinct 
impression of the relative positions of the two entire fleets, we 
shall close the present chapter, here ; reserving the duty of 
explanation for the commencement of a new one. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


“ All M'ere glad, 

And laughed, and shouted, as she darted on. 

And plunged amid the foam, and tossed it high. 

Over the deck, as when a strong, curbed steed 
Flings the froth from him in his eager race.” 

Percival. 

The long twilight of a high latitude had now ended, and 
the sun, though concealed behind clouds, had risen. The 
additional light contributed to lessen the gloomy look of the 
ocean, though the fury of the winds and waves still lent to it 
a dark and menacing aspect. To windward there were no 
signs of an abatement of the gale, while the heavens continued 
to abstain from letting down their floods, on the raging waters 
beneath. By this time, the fleet was materially to the south- 
ward of Cape la Hogue, though far to the westward, where 
the channel received the winds and waves from the whole rake 
of the Atlantic, and the seas were setting in, in the long, regular 
swells of the ocean, a little disturbed by the influence of the 
tides. Ships as heavy as the two-deckers moved along with 
groaning eflorts, their bulk-heads and timbers “ complaining,” 
to use the language of the sea, as the huge masses, loaded 
with their iron artillery, rose and sunk on the coming and re- 
ceding billows. But their movements were stately and full of 
majesty; whereas, the cutter, sloop, and even the frigates, 
seemed to be tossed like foam, very much at the mercy of the 
elements. The Chloe was passing the admiral, on the opposite 
tack, quite a mile to leeward, and yet, as she mounted to the 
summit of a wave, her cut-water was often visible nearly to 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


389 


the keel. These are the trials of a vessel’s strength ; for, were 
a ship always water-borne equally on all her lines, there v'ould 
not be the necessity which now exists to make her the well- 
knit mass of wood and iron she is. 

The progress of the tw^o fleets was very much the same, 
both squadrons struggling along through the billows, at the 
rate of about a marine league in the hour. As no lofty sail 
was carried, and the vessels were first made in the haze of a 
clouded morning, the ships had not become visible to each 
other until nearer than common ; and, by the time at which 
we have now arrived in our tale, the leading vessels were sep- 
arated by a space that did not exceed two miles, estimating 
the distance only on their respective lines of sailing ; though 
there would be about the same space between them when 
abreast, the English being so much to windward of their 
enemies. Any one in the least familiar with nautical manoeu- 
vres wall understand that these circumstances W'ould bring the 
van of the French and the rear of their foes much nearer to- 
gether in passing, both fleets being close-hauled. 

Sir Gervaise Oakes, as a matter of course, watched the 
progress of the tw'o lines with close and intelligent attention. 
Mons. de Vervillin did the same from the poop of le Foudroy- 
ant, a noble eighty-gun ship in W'hich his flag of vice-amiml 
was flying, as it might be, in defiance. By the side of the 
former stood Greenly, Bunting, and Bury, the Plantagenet’s 
first lieuteiiant ; by the side of the latter his capitaine do 
vaisseau, a man as little like the caricatures of such officers, 
as a hostile feeling has laid before the readers of English litera- 
ture, as Washington was like the man held up to odium in the 
London journals, at the commencement of the great American 
w^ar. M. deYervillin himself W''as a man of respectable birth, 
of a scientific education, and of great familiarity with ships, 
so far as a knowledge of their general powers and principles 

33 » 


390 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


w’as concerned ; but here his professional excellence ceased, all 
that infinity of detail which composes the distinctive merit of 
the practical seaman being, in a great degree, unknown to 
him, rendering it necessary for him to think in moments of 
emergency ; periods when the really prime mariner seems 
more to aet by a sort of instinct than by any very intelligible 
process of ratiocination. With his fleet drawn out before him, 
however, and with no unusual demands on his resources, this 
gallant officer was an exceedingly formidable foe to contend 
with in squadron. 

Sir Gervaise Oakes lost all his constitutional and feverish 
impatience while the fleets drew nigher and nigher. As is not 
unusual with brave men, who are naturally excitable, as the cri- 
sis approached he grew calmer, and obtained a more perfect com- 
mand over himself ; seeing all things in their true colours, and 
feeling more and more equal to control them. He continued to 
walk the poop, but it w'as with a slower step ; and, though his 
hands were still closed behind his back, the fingers were passive, 
while his countenance became grave and his eye thoughtful 
Greenly know that his interference would now be hazardous ; 
for whenever the vice-admiral assumed that air, he literally 
became commander-in-chief; and any attempt to control or in 
fluence him, unless sustained by the communication of new facts, 
could only draw down resentment on his own head. Bunting . 
too, was aware that the “ admiral was aboard,” as the officers, 
among themselves, used to describe this state of their superior’s 
mind, and was prepared to discharge his own duty in the most 
silent and rapid manner in his power. All the others present 
felt more or less of this same influence of an established 
character. 

“ Mr. Bunting,” said Sir Gervaise, when the distance be- 
tween the Plantagenet and le Temeraire the leading French 
vessel, might have been about a league, allowing for the differ- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


391 


ence in the respective lines of sailing — “ Mr. Bunting, bend 
on the signal for the ships to go to quarters. We may as well 
be ready for any turn of the dice.” 

No one dared to comment on this order : it was obeyed in 
readiness and silence. 

“ Signal ready, Sir Gervaise,” said Bunting, the instant the 
last flag was in its place. 

“ Run it up at once, sir, and have a bright look-out for the 
answers. Captain Greenly, go to quarters, and see all clear 
on the main-deck, to use the batteries if wanted. The people 
can stand fast below, as I think it might be dangerous to open 
the ports.” 

Captain Greenly passed off the poop to the quarter-deck, 
and in a minute the drum and fife struck up the air which is 
known all over the civilized world as the call to arms. In 
most services this summons is made by the drum alone, 'which 
emits sounds to which the fancy has attached peculiar words ; 
those of the soldiers of France being prend ton sac — prend 
ton sac — prend ton sac,^' no bad representatives of the mean- 
ing ; but in English and American ships, this appeal is usu- 
ally made in company with the notes of the “ ear-piercing 
fife,” which gives it a melody that might otherwise be want- 
ing. 

“ Signal answered throughout the fleet. Sir Gervaise,” said 
Bunting. 

No answer was given to this report beyond a quiet inclina- 
tion of the head. After a moment’s pause, however, the vice- 
admiral turned to his signal officer and said — 

“ I should think, Bunting, no captain can need an order to 
tell him not to open his lee-lower-deck ports in such a sea as 
this ?” 

“ I rather fancy not. Sir Gervaise,” answered Bunting^ 
looking dfolly at the boiling element that gushed up each min- 


392 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


ute from beneath the bottom of the ship, in a way to appear 
as high as the hammock-cloths. “ The people at the main- 
deck guns would have rather a wet time of it.” 

“ Bend on the signal, sir, for the ships astern to keep in 
the vice-admiral’s wake. Young gentleman,” to the midship- 
man who always acted as his aid in battle, “ tell Captain 
Greenly I desire to see him as soon as he has received all the 
reports.” 

Down to the moment when the first tap of the drum was 
heard, the Plantagenet had presented a scene of singular 
quiet and unconcern, considering the circumstances in which 
she was placed. A landsman would scarcely credit that 
men could be so near their enemies, and display so much 
indiflerence to their vicinity ; but this w'as the result of long 
habit, and a certain marine instinct that tells the sailor when 
any thing serious is in the wind, and when not. The differ- 
ence in the force of the two fleets, the heavy gale, and 
the Weatherly position of the English, all conspired to assure 
the crew that nothing decisive could yet occur. Here and 
there an officer or an old seaman might be seen glancing 
through a port, to ascertain the force and position of the 
French ; but, on the whole, their fleet excited little more at- 
tention than if lying at anchor in Cherbourg. The break- 
fast hour was approaching, and that important event monopo- 
lized the principal interest of the moment. The officers’ 
boys, in particular, began to make their appearance around 
the galley, provided, as usual, with their pots and dishes, 
and, now and then, one cast a careless glance through the 
nearest opening to see how the strangers looked ; but as to 
warfare there was much more the apuearance of it between 
the protectors of the rights of the different messes, than be- 
tween the two great belligerent navies themselves. 

Nor was the state of things materially different in the 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


393 


gun-room, or cock-pit, or on the orlops. Most of the people 
of a two-decked ship are berthed on the lower gun deck, and 
the order to “ clear ship ” is more necessary to a vessel of 
that construction, before going to quarters seriously, than to 
smaller craft ; though it is usual in all. So long as the 
bags, mess-chests, and other similar appliances were left in 
their ordinary positions. Jack saw little reason to derange 
himself ; and as reports were brought below, from time to 
time, respecting the approach of the enemy, and more espe- 
cially of his being well to leeward, few of those whose duty 
did not call them on deck troubled themselves about the mat- 
ter at all. This habit of considering his fortune as attached 
to that of his ship, and of regarding himself as a point on 
her mass, as we all look on ourselves as particles of the orb 
we accompany in its revolutions, is sufficiently general among 
mariners ; but it was particularly so as respects the sailors of 
a fleet, who were kept so much at sea, and who had been so 
often, with all sorts of results, in the presence of the enemy. 
The scene that was passing in the gun-room at the precise 
moment at which our tale has arrived, was so characteristic, 
in particular, as to merit a brief description. 

All the idlers by this time were out of their berths and 
cotts ; the signs of those who “ slept in the country,” as it 
is termed, or wffio were obliged, for want of state-rooms, to 
sling in the common apartment, having disappeared. Ma- 
grath was reading a treatise on medicine, in good Leyden 
Latin, by a lamp. The purser was endeavouring to decipher 
his steward’s hieroglyphics, favoured by the same light, and 
the captain of marines was examining the lock of an aged 
musket. The third and fourth lieutenants were helping each 
other to untangle one of their Bay-of-Biscay reckonings, which 
had set both plane and spherical trigonometry at defiance, by a 
lamp of their own ; and the chaplain was hurrying the steward 


S94 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


and the boys along with the breakfast — his usual occupation 
at that “witching time” in the morning. 

While things were in this state, the first lieutenant, Mr. 
Bury, appeared in the gun-room. His arrival caused one or 
two of the mess to glance upward at him, though no one 
spoke but the junior lieutenant, who, being an honourable, 
was at his ease with every one on board, short of the 
captain. 

“ What’s the news from deck, Bury ?” asked this officer, a 
youth of twenty, his senior being a man ten years older. “ Is 
Mr. de Vervillin thinking of running away yet ?” 

“ Not he, sir ; there’s too much of the game-cock about 
him for that.'' 

“ I’ll warrant you he can crow ! But what is the news. 
Bury ?” 

“ The news is that the old Planter is as wet as a wash-tub, 
forward, and I must have a dry jacket — do you hear, there, 
Tom ? Soundings,” turning to the master, who just then 
came in from forward, “ have you taken a look out of doors this 
morning ?” 

“ You know I seldom forget that, Mr. Bury. A pretty 
pickle the ship would soon be in, if J forgot to look about 
me !” 

“ He swallowed the deep-sea, down in the bay,” cried the 
honourable, laughing, “ and goes every morning at day-light to 
look for it out at the bridle-ports.” 

“ Well, then. Soundings, what do you think of the third 
ship in the French line ?” continued Bury, disregarding the 
levity of the youth : “ did you ever see such top-masts, as she 
carries, before ?” 

“ I scarce ever saw a Frenchman without them, Mr. Bury. 
You d have just such sticks in this fleet, if Sir Jarvy would 
stand them.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


395 


“ Ay, but Sir Jarvy wonH stand them. The captain who 
sent such a stick up in his ship, would have to throw it over- 
board before night. I never saw such a pole in the air in my 
life !” 

“ What’s the matter with the mast, Mr. Bury ?” put in 
Magrath, who kept up what he called constant scientific skir- 
mishes with the elder sea-officers ; the junior being too inex- 
perienced in his view to be worthy of a contest. “ I’ll engage 
the spar is moulded and fashioned agreeably to the most ap- 
proved pheelosphical principles ; for in tlmt the French cer- 
tainly excel us.” 

“ Who ever heard of moulding a spar ?” interrupted 
Soundings, laughing loudly, “ we mould a ship’s frame. Doc- 
tor, but we lengthen and shorten^ and scrape and fid her 
masts.” 

“ I’m answered as usual, gentlemen, and voted down, I 
suppose by acclamation, as they call it in other learned bodies. 
I would advise no creature that has a reason to go to sea ; an 
instinct being all that is needed to make a Lord High Admiral 
of twenty tails.” 

“ I should like Sir Jarvy to hear that^ my man of books,” 
cried the fourth, who had satisfied himself that a book was not 
his own forte— “ I fancy your instinct, doctor, will prevent you 
from whispering this in the vice-admiral’s ear !” 

Although Magrath had a profound respect for the com- 
mander-in-chief, he w'as averse to giving in, in a gun-room 
discussion. His answer, therefore, partook of the feeling of the 
moment. 

“ Sir Gervaise,” (he pronounced this word Jairvis,) “ Sir 
Gervaise Oakes, honourable sir,” he said, with a sneer, may 
be a good seaman, but he’s no linguist. Now', there he w'as, 
ashore among the dead and dying, just as ignorant of the mean- 
ing of filius nullius, which is boy’s Latin, as if he had nevei 


396 THE TWO ADMIRALS. 

Been a horn-book ! Nevertheless, gentlemen, it is science, and 
not even the classics, that makes the man ; as for a creature’s 
getting the sciences by instinct, I shall contend it is against the 
possibilities, whereas the attainment of what you call seaman- 
ship, is among even the lesser probabilities.” 

“ This is thp most marine-ish talk I ever heard from your 
mouth, doctor,” interrupted Soundings. “ How the devil can 
a man tell how to ware ship by instinct, as you call it, if one 
may ask the question ?” 

“ Simply, Soundings, because the process of ratiocination is 
dispensed wdth. Do you have to think in waring ship, now ? 
— I’ll put it to your own honour, for the answer.” 

“ Think ! — I should be a poor creature for a master, indeed, 
if much thinking were wanting in so simple a matter as tack- 
ing or veering. No — no — ^your real sea-dog has no occasion 
for much thinking, when he has his work before him.” 

“ That’ll just be it, gentlemen ! — that’ll be just w^hat I’m 
telling ye,” cried the doctor, exulting in the success of his 
artifice. “ Not only will Mr. Soundings not think, when he 
has his ordinary duties to perform, but he holds the process 
itself in merited contempt, ye’ll obsairve ; and so my theory is 
established, by evidence of a pairty concerned ; which is more 
than a postulate logically requires.” 

Here Magrath dropped his book, and laughed with that 
sort of hissing sound that seems peculiar to the genus of which 
he formed a part. *He was still indulging in his triumph, 
when the first tap of the drum was heard. All listened ; every 
ear ^pricking like that of a deer that hears the hound, when 
there followed — “ r-r-r-ap tap — r-r-r-ap tap — r-r-r-ap tap a-tap- 
tap — rap-a-tap — a-rap-a-tap a-rap-a-tap — a-tap-tap.” 

“ Instinct or reason. Sir Jarvy is going to quarters I” ex- 
claimed the honourable. “ I’d no notion we were near enough 
to the Monsieurs, for that^ 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


397 


“ Now,” said MagTath, with a grinning sneer, as he rose 
to descend to the cock-pit, “ there’ll may be arise an occasion 
for a little learning, when I’ll promise ye all the science that 
can be mustered in my unworthy knowledge. Soundings, ] 
may have to heave the lead in the depths of your physical 
formation, in which case I’ll just endeevour to avoid the 
breakers of ignorance.” 

“ Go to the devil, or to the cock-pit, whichever you please, 
sir,” answered the master ; “ I’ve served in six general actions, 
already, and have never been obliged to one of your kidney for 
so much as a bit of court-plaster or lint. With me, oakum 
answers for one, and canvass for the other.” 

While this w'as saying, all hands were in motion. The sea 
and marine officers looking for their side-arms, the surgeon 
carefully collecting his books, and the chaplain seizing a dish 
of cold beef, that was hurriedly set upon a table, carrying it 
down with him to his quarters, by way of taking it out erf harm’s 
way. In a minute, the gun-room was cleared of all who 
usually dwelt there, and their places were supplied by the sea- 
men who manned the three or four thirty-tv/o’s that were 
mounted in the apartment, together with their opposites. As 
the sea-officers, in particular, appeared among the men, their 
faces assumed an air of authority, and their voices were heard 
calling out the order to “tumble up,” as they hastened them- 
selves to their several stations. 

All this time. Sir Gervaise Oakes paced the poop. Bunt- 
ing and the quarter-master were in readiness to hoist the new 
signal, and Greenly merely waited for the reports, to join the 
commander-in-chief In about five minutes after the drum 
had given its first tap, these were completed, and the captain 
ascended to the poop. 

“ By standing on, on our present course. Captain Greenly,” 
observed Sir Gervaise, anxious to justify to himself the evolu- 

34 


398 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


tion he contemplated, “ the rear of our line and the van of the 
French will be brought within fair range of shot from each 
other, and, by an accident, we might lose a ship ; since any 
vessel that was crippled, would necessarily sag directly down 
upon the enemy. Now, I propose to keep away in the Plan- 
tagenet, and just brush past the leading French ships, at about 
the distance the Warspite will have to pass, and so alter the 
face of matters a little. What do you think would be the con- 
sequence of such a manoeuvre ?” 

“ That the van of our line and the van of the French will 
be brought as near together, as you have just said must hap- 
pen to the rear. Sir Gervaise, in any case.” 

“ It does not require a mathematician to tell that much, 
sir. You will keep away, as soon as Bunting shows the signal, 
and bring the wind a-beam. Never mind the braces ; let 
them stand fast ; as soon as we have passed the French admi- 
ral, I shall luff, again. This will cause us to lose a little of 
our "Weatherly position, but about that I am very indifferent. 
Give the order, sir — Bunting, run up the signal.” 

These commands were silently obeyed, and presently the 
Plantagenet was running directly in the troughs of the seas, 
"VNuth quite double her former velocity. The other ships an- 
swered promptly, each keeping away as her second ahead 
came down to the proper line of sailing, and all complying to 
the letter with an order that was very easy of execution. The 
effect, besides giving every prospect of a distant engagement, 
was to straighten the line to nearly mathematical precision. 

“ Is it your wish, Sir Gervaise, that we should endeavour 
to open our lee lower ports ?” asked Greenly. “ Unless we at- 
tempt something of the sort, we shall have nothing heavier 
than the eighteens to depend on, should Monsieur de Vervillin 
see fit to begin.” 

“And will he be any better off? — It would be next to 




THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


399 


madness to think of fighting the lower-deck guns, in such 
weather, and we will keep all fast. Should the French com- 
mence the sport, we shall have the advantage of being to 
windward ; and the loss of a few 'sveather shrouds might bring 
down the best mast in their fleet.” 

Greenly made no answer, though he perfectly understood 
that the loss of a mast would almost certainly ensure the loss 
of the ship, did one of his own heavier spars go. But this 
was Sir Gervaise’s greatest weakness as a commander, and he 
knew it would be useless to attempt persuading him to suffer 
a single ship under his order to pass the enemy nearer than 
he w’ent himself in the Plantagenet. This was what he called 
covering his ships ; though it amounted to no more than 
putting all of them in the jeopardy that happened to he un- 
avoidable, as regarded one or two. 

The Comte de Vervillin seemed at a loss to understand this 
sudden and extraordinary movement in the van of his enemy. 
His signals followed, and his crews went to their guns ; but it 
was not an easy matter for ships that persevered in hugging 
the wind to make any material alterations in their relative 
positions, in such a gale. The rate of sailing of the English, 
however, now menaced a speedy collision, if collision were 
intended, and it was time to be stirring, in order to be ready 
for it. 

On the other hand, all was quiet, and, seemingly, death- 
like, in the English ships. Their people were at their quarters, 
already, and this is a moment of profound stillness in a vessel 
of war. The lower ports being down, the portions of the 
crews stationed on those decks were buried, as it might be, in 
obscurity, while even those above were still partly concealed 
by the half-ports. There was virtually nothing for the sail- 
trimmers to do, and every thing was apparently left to the 
evolutions of the vast machines themselves, in which they 


400 


THE TWO admirals. 


floated. Sir Gervaise, Greenly, and the usual attendants still 
remained on the poop, their eyes scarcely turning for an instant 
from the fleet of the enemy. 

By this time the Plantagenet and le Temeraire were little 
more than a mile apart, each minute lessening this distance. 
The latter ship was struggling along, her hows plunging into 
the seas to the hawse-holes, while the former had a swift, easy 
motion through the troughs, and along the summits of the 
waves, her flattened sails aiding in steadying her in the heavy 
lurches that unavoidably accompanied such a movement. Still, 
a sea would occasionally break against her weather side, send- 
ing its crest upward in a brilliant jet-cVeau, and leaving tons 
of w^ater on the decks. Sir Gervaise’s manner had now lost 
every glimmering of excitement. When he spoke, it was in 
a gentle, pleasant tone, such as a gentleman might use in the 
society of women. The truth was, all his energy had con- 
centrated in the determination to do a daring deed ; and, as is 
not unusual with the most resolute men, the nearer he ap- 
proached to the consummation of his purpose, the more he 
seemed to reject all the spurious aids of manner. 

“ The French do not open their lower ports. Greenly,” ob- 
served the vice-admiral, dropping the glass after one of his 
long looks at the enemy, “ although they have the advantage 
of being to leeward. I take that to be a sign they intend 
nothing very serious.” 

“ We shall know better five minutes hence. Sir Gervaise. 
This ship slides along like a London coach.” 

“ His line is lubberly, after all. Greenly ! Look at those 
two ships astern — they are near half a mile to windward 
of the rest of the fleet, and at least half a mile astern. Hey ! 
Greenly ?” 

The captain turned towards the rear of the French, and 
examined the positions of the two ships mentioned with suffi- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


401 


cient deliberation ; but Sir Gervaise dropped his head in a 
musing manner, and began to pace the poop again. Once or 
twice he stopped to look at the rear of the French line, then 
distant from him quite a league, and as often did he resume 
his w'alk. 

“ Bunting,” said the vice-admiral, mildly, “ come this way, 
a moment. Our last signal was to keep in the commander- 
in-chief’s wake, and to follow his motions ?” 

“It was. Sir Gervaise. The old order to follow motions, 
‘ with or without signals,’ as one might say.” 

“ Bend on the signals to close up in line, as near as safe, 
and to carry sail by the flag-ship.” 

“ Ay, ay. Sir Gervaise — we’ll have ’em both up in five 
minutes, sir.” 

The commander-in-chief now even seemed pleased. His 
physical excitement returned a little, and a smile struggled 
round his lip. His eye glanced at Greenly, to see if he were 
suspected, and then all his calmness of exterior returned. In 
the mean time the signals w’ere made and answered. The 
latter circumstance was reported to Sir Gervaise, who cast his 
eyes down the line astern, and saw that the different ships 
were already bracing in, and easing off their sheets, in order 
to diminish the spaces between the different vessels. As soon 
as it was apparent that the Carnatic was drawing ahead, 
Captain Greenly was told to lay his main and fore-yards 
nearly square, to light up all his staysail sheets, and to 
keep away sufficiently to make every thing draw. Al- 
though these orders occasioned surprise, they were implicitly 
obeyed. 

The moment of meeting had now come. In consequence 
of having kept away so much, the Plantagenet could not bo 
quite three-fourths of a mile on the weather -bow of le Tcme- 
raire, coming up rapidly, and threatening a semi- transverse 

31 * 


402 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


fire. 111 order to prevent this, the French ship edged off x 
little, giving herself an easier and more rapid movement 
through the water, and bringing her own broadside more 
fairly to the shock. This evolution was followed by the two 
next ships, a little prematurely, perhaps ; but the admiral in 
le Foudroyant^ disdaining to edge off from her enemy, kept 
her luff. The ships astern were governed by the course of 
their superior. This change produced a little disorder in 
the van of the French, menacing still greater, unless one 
party or the other receded from the course taken. But time 
pressed, and the two fleets w^ere closing so fast as to induce 
other thoughts. 

“ There’s lubberly work for you. Greenly said Sir Ger- 
vaise, smiling. “ A commander-in-chief heading up with the 
bowlines dragged, and his second and third ahead — not to say 
fourth — running ofi’ wdth the wind abeam ! Now, if we can 
knock the Comte off a couple of points, in passing, all his fel- 
lows astern will follow, and the Warspite and Blenheim and 
Thunderer will slip by like girls in a country-dance ! Send 
Bury down to the main-deck, with orders to be ready with 
those eighteens.” 

Greenly obeyed, of course, and he began to think better of 
audacity in naval warfare, than he had done before, that day. 
This was the usual course of things with these two officers ; 
one arguing and deciding according to the dictates of a cool 
judgment, and the other following his impulses quite as much 
as any thing else, until facts supervened to prove that human 
things are as much controlled by adventitious agencies, the 
results of remote and unseen causes^ as by any well-digested 
plans laid at the moment. In their cooler hours, when they 
came to reason on the past, the vice-admiral generally con- 
summated his triumphs, by reminding his captain that if he 
had not been in the way of luck, he never could have profited 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


403 


by it ; no bad creed for a naval officer, who is otherwise prii* 
dent and vigilant. 

The quarter-masters of the fleet were just striking six bells, 
or proclaiming that it was seven o’clock in the morning watch, 
as the Plantagenet and le Temh'aire came abeam of each 
other. Both ships lurched heavily in the troughs of the seas, 
and both rolled to windward in stately majesty, and yet both 
slid through the brine wdth a momentum that resembled the 
imperceptible motion of a planet. The water rolled back from 
their black sides and shining hammock-cloths, and all the 
other dark panoply that distinguishes a ship-of-war glistened 
with the spray ; but no sign of hostility proceeded from either. 
The French admiral made no signal to engage, and Sir Ger- 
vaise had reasons of his own for wishing to pass the enemy’s 
van, if possible, unnoticed. Minute passed after minute, in 
breathless silence, on board the Plantagenet and the Carnatic, 
the latter vessel being now but half a cable’s-length astern of 
the admiral. Every eye that had any outlet for such a purpose, 
w^as riveted on the main-deck ports of le Temeraire in expec- 
tation of seeing the fire issue from her guns. Each instant, 
however, lessened the chances, as regarded that particular 
vessel, which was soon out of the line of fire from the Plan- 
tasfenet, when the same scene was to follow with the same 
result, in connection with le Coiiquereur, the second ship of 
the French line. Sir Gervaise smiled as he passed the three 
first ships, seemingly unnoticed ; but as he drew nearer to the 
admiral, he felt confident this impunity must cease. 

“ What they meaii by it all. Greenly,” he observed to his 
companion, “ is more than I can say ; but we will go nearer, 
and try to find out. Keep her away a little more, sir ; keep 
her away half a point.” Greenly was not disposed to remon- 
strate now, for his prudent temperament w^as yielding to the 
excitement of the moment just reversing the traits of SirGer* 


404 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


vaise’s character ; the one losing his extreme discretion in feel- 
ing, as the other gained by the pressure of circumstances. The 
helm was eased a little, and the ship sheered nearer to U 
Foudroyant. 

As is usual in all services, the French commander-in-chief 
w'as in one of the best vessels of his fleet. Not only was the 
Foudroyant a heavy ship, carrying French forty- twos below, a 
circumstance that made her rate as an eighty, but, like the 
Plantagenet, she was one of the fastest and most weatherly 
vessels of her class known. By “ hugging the wind,” this 
noble vessel had got, by this time, materially to windward of 
her second and third ahead, and had increased her distance 
essentially from her supports astern. In a word, she was far 
from being in a position to be sustained as she ought to be, un- 
less she edged off herself, a movement that no one on board her 
seemed to contemplate. 

“ He’s a noble fellow. Greenly, that Comte de Vervillin !” 
murmured Sir Gervaise, in a tone of admiration, “ and so have 
I always found him, and so have I always reported him, too ! 
The fools about the Gazettes, and the knaves about the offices, 
may splutter as they will ; Mr. de Vervillin would give them 
plenty of occupation were they here. I question if he mean 
to keep off in the least, but insists on holding every inch he can 
gain !” 

The next moment, however, satisfied Sir Gervaise that he 
was mistaken in his last conjecture, the bows of the Foudroy- 
ant gradually falling off, until the line of her larboard guns 
bore, when she made a general discharge of the whole of them, 
wdth the exception of those on the lower deck. The Planta- 
genets waited until the ship rose on a sea, and then they re- 
turned the compliment in the same manner. The Carnatic’s 
side showed a sheet of flame immediately after ; and the 
Achilles, Lord Morganic, luffing briskly to the wind, so as to 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


405 


bring her guns to bear, followed up the game, like flashes of 
lightning. All three of these ships had directed their fire at 
le Foudroyant, and the smoke had not yet driven from among 
her spars, when Si: Gervaise perceived that all three of her 
top-masts were hanging to leeward. At this sight. Greenly 
fairly sprang from the deck, and gave three cheers The men 
below caught up the cry, even to those who were, in a man- 
ner, buried on the lower deck, and presently, spite of the gale, 
the Carnatic’s were heard following their example astern. At 
this instant the whole French and English lines opened their 
fire, from van to rear, as far as their guns would bear, or the 
shot tell. 

“ Now, sir, now is our time to close with de Vervillin !” ex- 
claimed Greenly, the instant he perceived the manner in which 
his ship was crippled. “ In our close order we might hope to 
make a thorough wreck of him.” 

“ Not so. Greenly,” returned Sir Gervaise calmly. “ You 
see he edges away already, and will be down among his other 
ships in five minutes ; we should have a general action with 
twice our force. What is done, is well done, and we will let 
it stand. It is something to have dismasted the enemy’s com- 
mander-in-chief ; do you look to it that the enemy don’t do the 
same with ours. I heard shot rattling aloft, and every thing 
now bears a hard strain.” 

Greenly went to look after his duty, while Sir Gervaise 
continued to pace the poop. The whole of le Foudroyant’s 
fire had been directed at the Plantagenet, but so rough was the 
ocean that not a shot touched the hull. A little injury had 
been done aloft, but nothing that the ready skill of the seamen 
was not able to repair even in that rough weather. The fact 
is, most of the shot had touched the waves, and had flown oft' 
from their varying surfaces at every angle that offered. One 
of the secrets that Sir Gervaise had taught his captains was to 


406 


THK TWO ADMIRALS. 


avoid hitting the surface of the sea, if possible, unless that sur- 
face was reasonably smooth, and the object intended to be in- 
jured was near at hand. Then the French admiral received 
the^rs^ fire — always the most destructive — of three fresh ves- 
sels ; and his injuries were in proportion. 

The scene was now animated, and not without a wild mag- 
nificence. The gale continued as heavy as ever, and with the 
raging of the ocean and the howling of the winds, mingled 
the roar of artillery, and the smoky canopy of battle. Still 
the destruction on neither side bore any proportion to the 
grandeur of the accompaniments ; the distance and the un- 
steadiness of the ships preventing much accuracy of aim. In 
that day, a large two-decked ship never carried heavier metal 
than an eighteen above her lower batteries ; and this gun, ef- 
ficient as it is on most occasions, does not bring with it the 
fearful destruction that attends a more modern broadside. 
There was a good deal of noise, notwithstanding, and some 
blood shed in passing ; but, on the whole, when the Warspite, 
the last of the English ships, ceased her fire, on account of the 
distance of the enemy abreast of her, it would have been diffi- 
cult to tell that any vessel but le Foudroyant, had been doing 
more than saluting. At this instant Greenly re-appeared on 
the poop, his own ship having ceased to fire for several min- 
utes. 

“ Well, Greenly, the main-deck guns are at least scaled,” 
said Sir Gervaise, smiling ; “ and that is not to be done over 
again for some time You keep every thing ready in the bat- 
teries, I trust ?” 

“We are all ready. Sir Gervaise, but there is nothing to be 
done. It would be useless to waste our ammunition at ships 
quite two miles under our lee.” 

“ Very true — very true, sir. But all the Frenchmen are 
not quite so far to leeward, Greenly, as you may see by looking 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


40V 


ahead. Yonder two, at least, are not absolutely out of harm’s 
way !” 

Greenly turned, gazed an instant in the direction in which 
the commander-in-chief pointed, and then the truth of what 
Sir Gervaise had really in view in keeping away, flashed on 
his mind, as it might be, at a glance. Without saying a 
word, he immediately quitted the poop, and descending even 
to the lower deck, passed through the whole of his batteries, 
giving his orders, and examining their condition. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


w Dy Heaven ! it is a splendid sight to see, 

(For one who hath no friend, nor brother there,) 

Their rival scarfs of mixed embroidery — 

Their various arms that glitter in the air !” 

Childe Harold. ■ 

The little conflict between the English ships and the head 
of the French line, the evolutions that had grown out of it, 
the crippling of le Foudroyant, and the continuance of the 
gale, contributed to produce material changes in the relative 
positions of the two fleets. All the English vessels kept their 
stations with beautiful accuracy, still running to the southward 
in a close line ahead, having the wind a trifle abaft the beam, 
with their yards braced in. Under the circumstances, it 
needed but some seven or eight minutes for these ships to 
glide a mile through the troubled ocean, and this was about 
the period the most exposed of them all had been under the 
random and slow fire that the state of the weather permitted. 
The trifling damages sustained were already repaired, or in a 
way soon to be so. On the other hand, considerable disorder 
prevailed among the French. Their line had never been 
perfect, extending quite a league ; a few of the leading vessels, 
or those near the commander-in-chief, sustaining each other as 
well as could be desired, W'hile long intervals existed between 
the ships astern. Among the latter, too, as has been stated, 
some were much farther to windward than the others ; an 
irregularity that proceeded from a desire of the Comte to lull* 
up as near as possible to the enemy — a desire, whicli, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


409 


practised on, necessarily threw the least weatherly vessels to 
leeward. Thus the two ships in the extreme rear, as has been 
hinged at already, being jammed up unusually hard upon the 
wind, had weathered materially on their consorts, while their 
way through the water had been proportionahly less. It was 
these combined circumstances which brought them so far 
astern and to windward. 

At the time Sir Gervaise pointed out their positions to 
Greenly, the two vessels just mentioned were quite half a 
mile to the westward of their nearest consort, and more than 
that distance to the southward. When it is remembered that 
the wind was nearly due west, and that all the French 
vessels, these two excepted, were steering north, the relative 
positions of the latter will he understood. Le Foudroyant, too, 
had kept away, after the loss of her top-masts, until fairly in 
the wake of the ships ahead of her, in her own line, and, as 
the vessels had been running off with the wind abeam, for 
several minutes, this manoeuvre threw the French still farther 
to leeward. To make the matter worse, just as the Warspite 
drew out of the range of shot from the French, M. de Vervillin 
showed a signal at the end of his gaff, for his whole fleet to 
ware in succession ; an order, which, while it certainly had a 
gallant semblance, as it was bringing his vessels round on the 
same tack as his enemy, and looked like a defiance, was sin- 
gularly adapted to restoring to the latter all the advantage of 
the wind they had lost by keeping away. As it was 
necessary to take room to execute this evolution, in order 
to clear the ships that were now crowded in the van, when le 
Temeraire came to the wind again on the starboard tack, she 
was fully half a mile to leeward of the admiral, who had just 
put his helm up. As a matter of course, in order to Ibrm 
anew, with the heads of the ships to the southward, each 

vessel had to get into her leader’s wake, which v^ould be 

a5 


410 


the two admirals. 


virtually throwing the whole French line, again, two miles tc 
leeward of the English. Nevertheless, the stragglers in the 
rear of the French continued to hug the wind, with a per- 
tinacity that denoted a resolution to have a brush with their 
enemies in passing. The vessels were le Scipion and la 
Victoire, each of seventy-four guns. The first of these ships 
was commanded by a young man of very little professional ex- 
perience, but of high court influence ; while the second had a 
captain who, like old Parker, had worked his way up to his 
present station, through great difficulties, and by dint of hard 
knocks, and harder work. Unfortunately the first ranked, 
and the humble capitaine de fregate, placed by accident in 
command of a ship of the line, did not dare to desert a 
capitaine de vaisseau, who had a due for an elder brother, and 
called himself comte. There was perhaps a redeeming gal- 
lantry in the spirit which determined the Comte de Chelin- 
court to incur the risk of passing so near six vessels with only 
two, that might throw a veil over the indiscretion ; more 
especially as his own fleet was near enough to support him in 
the event of any disaster, and it was certainly possible that the 
loss of a material spar on board either of his foes, might induce 
the capture of the vessel. At all events, thus reasoned M. de 
Chelincourt ; who continued boldly on, with his larboard tacks 
aboard, always hugging the wind, even after the Temeraire 
was round ; and M. Comptant chose to follow him in la 
Victoire. The Plantagenet, by this time, being not a mile 
distant from the Scipio, coming on with steady velocity, these 
intentions and circumstances created every human probability 
that she would soon be passing her weather beam, within a 
quarter of a mile, and, consequently, that a cannonade, far 
more serious than what had yet occurred, must follow. The 
few intervening minutes gave Sir Gervaise time to throw a 
glance around him, and to come to his final decision. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


411 


The English fleet was never in better line than at that 
precise moment. The ships were as close to each other as 
comported with safety, and every thing stood and drew as in 
the trade winds. The leading French vessels were waring and 
increasing their distance to leeward, and it would require an 
hour for them to get up near enough to be at all dangerous in 
such weather, while all the rest were following, regardless of 
the two that continued their lufT. The Chloe had already got 
round, and, hugging the wind, was actually coming up to wind- 
ward of her own line, though under a press of canvass that 
nearly buried her. The Active and Driver were in their sta- 
tions, as usual; one on the weather beam, and the other on 
the weather bow ; while the Druid had got so near as to show 
her hull, closing fast, with square yards. 

“ That is either a very bold, or a very obstinate fellow ; 
he, who commands the two ships ahead of us,” observed 
Greenly, as he stood at the vice-admiral’s side, and just as the 
latter terminated his survey. “ What object can he possibly 
have ill braving three times his force in a gale like this ?” 

“ If it were an Englishman, Greenly, we should call him 
a hero ! By taking a mast out of one of us, he might cause 
the loss of the ship, or compel us to engage double our force. 
Do not blame him, but help me, rather, to disappoint him. 
Now, listen, and see all done immediately.” 

Sir Gervaise then explained to the captain what his inten- 
tions really w'ere, first ordering, himself, (a very unusual course 
for one of his habits,) the first lieutenant, to keep the ship olT 
as much as practicable, without seeming to wish to do so ; but, 
as the orders will be explained incidentally, in the course of the 
narrative, it is not necessary to give them here. Greenly then 
went below', leaving Sir Gervaise, Bunting, and their auxiliaries, 
in possession of the poop, A private signal had been bent on 
some little time, and it was now hoisted. In about five minutes 


412 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


it was read, understood, and answered by all the ships of tlio 
fleet. Sir Gervaise rubbed his hands like a man who was de- 
lighted, and he beckoned to Bury, who had the trumpet on the 
quarter-deck, to join him on the poop. 

“ Did Captain Greenly let you into our plot. Bury,” asked 
the vice-admiral, in high good-humour, as soon as obeyed, “ I 
saw, he spoke to you in going below ?” 

“ He only told me. Sir Gervaise, to edge down upon the 
Frenchmen as close as I could, and this we are doing, I think, 
as fast as mounsheer” — Bury was an Anglo-Gallican — “ will 
at all like.” 

“Ah ! there old Parker sheers bravely to leeward ! Trust to 
him to be in the right place. The Carnatic went fifty fathoms 
out of the line at that one twist. The Thunderer and Warspite 
too! Never was a signal more beautifully obeyed. If the French- 
men don’t take the alarm, now, every thing will be to our minds.” 

By this time. Bury began to understand the mancEuvre. 
Each alternate ship of the English was sheering fast to lee- 
ward, forming a weather and a lee line, with increased inter- 
vals between the vessels, while all of them were edging 
rapidly away, so as greatly to near the enemy. It was ap- 
parent now, indeed, that the Plantagenet herself must pass 
within a hundred fathoms of the Scipio, and that in less than 
two minutes. The delay in issuing the orders for this evolu- 
tion was in favour of its success, inasmuch as it did not give 
the enemy time for deliberation. The Comte de Chelincourt, 
in fact, did not detect it ; or, at least, did not foresee the con- 
sequences ; .though both were quite apparent to the more 
experienced capitaine de fregate astern. It was too late, or 
the latter would have signalled his superior to put him on his 
guard ; but, as things were, there remained no alternative, 
apparently, but to run the gauntlet, and trust all to the chances 
of battle. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 413 

In a moment like that v/e are describing, events occur 
much more rapidly than they can be related. The Plantagenet 
was now wdthin pistol-shot of le Scipion, and on her weather 
bow. At that precise instant, when the how-guns, on both 
sides, began to play, the Carnatic, then nearly in a line with 
the enemy, made a rank sheer to leeward, and drove on, open- 
ing in the very act with her w'eather-bow guns. The Thun- 
derer and Warspite imitated this manoeuvre, leaving the 
Frenchman the cheerless prospect of being attacked on both 
sides. It is not to be concealed that M. de Chelincourt was 
considerably disturbed by this sudden change in his situation. 
That which, an instant before, had the prospect of being a 
chivalrous, but extremely hazardous, passage in front of a 
formidable enemy, now began to assume the appearance of 
something very like destruction. It was too late, however, to 
remedy the evil, and the young Comte, as brave a man as 
existed, determined to face it manfully. He had scarcely time 
to utter a few cheering sentiments, in a dramatic manner, to 
those on the quarter-deck, when the English flag-ship came 
sweeping past in a cloud of smoke, and a blaze of fire. His 
own broadside was nobly returned, or as much of it as the 
weather permitted, but the smoke of both discharges was still 
driving between his masts, when the dark hamper of the 
Carnatic glided into the drifting canopy, which was made to 
whirl back on the devoted Frenchman in another torrent of 
flame. Three times was this fearful assault renewed on the 
Scipio, at intervals of about a minute, the iron hurricane first 
coming from to windward, 'and then seeming to be driven back 
from to leeward, as by its own rebound, leaving no breathing 
time to meet it. The effect was completely to silence her own 
fire ; for what between the power of the raging elements, and 
the destruction of the shot, a species of wild and blood-fraught 
confusion took the place of system and order. Her decks were 

36* 


414 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


covered with killed and wounded, among the latter of whom 
w^as the Comte de Chelincourt, while orders were given and 
countermanded in a way to render them useless, if not in- 
coherent. From the time when the Plantagenet fired her first 
gun, to that when the Warspite fired her last, was just five 
minutes by the watch. It seemed an hour to the French, and 
hut a moment to their enemies. One hundred and eighty-two 
men and boys were included in the casualties of those teeming 
moments on board the Scipio alone ; and when that ship 
issued slowly from the scene of havoc, more by the velocity of 
her assailants in passing than by her own, the foremast Avas 
all that stood, the remainder of her spars dragging under her 
lee. To cut the last adrift, and to run off nearly before the 
wind, in order to save the spars forward, and to get within 
the cover of her owm fleet, was all that could now be done. 
It may as well be said here, that these two objects were 
effected. 

The Plantagenet had received damage from the fire of her 
opponent. Some ten or fifteen men were killed and wounded ; 
her main- top-sail was split by a shot, from clew to earing ; one 
of the quarter-masters was carried from the poop, literally 
dragged overboard by the sinews that connected head and 
body ; and several of the spars, with a good deal of rigging, 
required to be looked to, on account of injuries. But no one 
thought of these things, except as they were connected with 
present and pressing duties. Sir Gervaise got a sight of la 
Victoire, some hundred and twenty fathoms ahead, just as the 
roar of the Carnatic’s guns was rushing upon his ears. The 
French commander saw and understood the extreme jeopardy 
of his consort, and he had already put his helm hard up. 

“ Starboard — starboard hard. Bury !” shouted Sir Gervaise 
from the poop. “ Damn him, run him aboard, if he dare hold 
on long enough to meet us.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


415 


The lieutenant feigned with his hand that the order was 
understood, and the helm being put up, the ship went whirl- 
ing off to leeward on the summit of a hill of foam. A cheer 
was heard struggling in the tempest, and glancing over his 
left shoulder. Sir Gervaise perceived the Carnatic shooting out 
of the smoke, and imitating his own movement, by making 
another and still ranker sheer to leeward. At the same mo- 
ment she set her mainsail close-reefed, as if determined to out- 
strip her antagonist, and maintain her station. None but a 
prime seaman could have done such a thing so steadily and so 
well, in the midst of the wild haste and confusion of such a scene. 
Sir Gervaise, now not a hundred yards from the Carnatic, 
waved high his hat in exultation and praise ; and old Parker, 
alone on his own poop, bared his grey hairs in acknowledg- 
ment of the compliment. All this time the two ships drove 
madly ahead, while the crash and roar of the battle was heard 
astern. 

The remaining French ship was well and nimbly handled. 
As she came round she unavoidably sheered towards her ene- 
mies, and Sir Gervaise found it necessary to countermand his 
last order, and to come swiftly up to the wind, both to avoid 
her raking broadside, and to prevent running into his own 
consort. But the Carnatic, having a little more room, first 
kept off, and then came to the wind again, as soon as the 
Frenchman had fired, in a way to compel him to haul up on 
the other tack, or to fall fairly aboard. Almost at the same 
instant, the Plantagenet closed on his weather quarter and 
raked. Parker had got abeam, and pressing nearer, he com- 
pelled la Yictoire to haul her bow-lines, bringing her completely 
between two fires. Spar went after spar, and being left with 
nothing standing but the lower masts, the Plantagenet and 
Carnatic could not prevent themselves from passing their victim, 
though each shortened sail ; the first being already without a 


416 


T ini’. TWO ADMIRALS. 


topsail. Their places, howcwer, were immediately supplied by 
the Achilles and the Thunderer, both ships having hauled 
down their staysails to lessen their way. As the Blenheim 
and Warspite were quite near astern, and an eighteen-pound 
shot had closed the earthly career of the poor capitaine de 
fregate, his successor in command deemed it prudent to lower 
his ensign ; after a resistance that in its duration was unequal 
to the promise of its commencement. Still the ship had suf- 
fered materially, and had fifty of her crew among the casual- 
ties. His submission terminated the combat. 

Sir Gervaise Oakes had now leisure and opportunity to 
look about him. Most of the French ships had got roimd ; 
but, besides being quite as far astern, when they should get up 
abeam, supposing himself to remain where he was, they would 
be at very long gun-shot dead to leeward. To remain where 
he was, however, formed no part of his plan, for he was fully 
resolved to maintain all his advantages. The great difficulty 
was to take possession of his prize, the sea running so high as 
to render it questionable if a boat would live. Lord Morganic, 
however, was just of an age and a temperament to bring that 
question to a speedy issue. Being on the weather-beam of la 
Victoire, as her flag came down, he ordered his own first 
lieutenant into the larger cutter, and putting half-a-dozen 
marines, with the proper crew, into the boat, it was soon seen 
dangling in the air over the cauldron of the ocean ; the oars 
on-end. To lower, let go, and unhook, were the acts of an 
instant ; the oars fell, and the boat was swept away to leeward. 
A commander’s commission depended on his success, and Daly 
made desperate efforts to obtain it. The prize offered a lee, 
and the French, with a national benevolence, courtesy, and 
magnanimity, that would scarcely have been imitated had 
matters been reversed, threw ropes to their conquerors, to help 
to rescue them from a very awkward dilemma. The men did 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


417 


succeed in getting into the [jvize ; but the boat, in the end. 
was stove and lost. 

The appearance of the red flag of England, the symbol of 
his own professional rank, and worn by most under his own 
orders, over the white ensign of France, was the sign to Sir 
Gervaise that the prize-officer was in possession. He imme- 
diately made the signal for the fleet to follow the motions of the 
commander-in-chief. By this time, his own mainsail, close- 
reefed, had taken the place of the torn top-sail, and the Plan- 
lagenet led off to the southward again, as if nothing unusual 
had occurred. Daly had a quarter of an hour of extreme exer- 
tion on board the prize, before he could get her fairly in motion 
as he desired ; but, by dint of using the axe freely, he cut the 
wreck adrift, and soon had la Victoire liberated from that in- 
cumbrance. The fore-sail and fore and mizzen staysails were 
on the ship, and the mainsail, close-reefed also, was about to be 
set, to drag her from the melee of her foes, when her ensign 
came down. By getting the tack of the latter aboard, and the 
sheet aft, he would have all the canvass set the gale would 
allow, and to this all-essential point he directed his wits. To 
ride down the main-tack of a two-decked ship, in a gale of 
wind, or what fell little short of a real gale, was not to be 
undertaken with twenty men, the extent of Daly’s command ; 
and he had recourse to the assistance of his enemies. A good 
natured, facetious Irishman, himself, with a smattering of 
French, he soon got forty or fifty of the prisoners in a sufficient 
humour to lend their aid, and the sail was set, though not with- 
out great risk of its splitting. From this moment, la Victoire 
was better off, as respected the gale and keeping a weatherly 
position, than any of the English ships ; inasmuch as she could 
carry all the canvass the wind permitted, while she was re- 
; lieved from the drift inseparable from hamper aloft. The efiect, 
I indeed, was visible in the first hour, to Daly’s great delight 


418 


the two admirals. 


and exultation. At the end of that period, he found himself 
quite a cable’s-length to windward of the line. But in relating 
this last particular, events have been a little anticipated. 

Greenly, wdio had gone below to attend to the batteries, 
which were not worked without great difficulty in so heavy a 
sea, and to be in readiness to open the lower ports should occa- 
sion offer, reappeared on deck just as the commander-in-chief 
showed the signal for the ships to follow his own motions. The 
line was soon formed, as mentioned, and ere long it became 
apparent that the prize could easily keep in her station. As 
most of the day was still before him, Sir Gervaise had little 
doubt of being able to secure the latter, ere night should come 
to render it indispensable. 

The vice-admiral and his captain shook hands cordially on. 
the poop, and the former pointed out to the latter, with honest 
exultation, the result of his own bold manoeuvres. 

“ We’ve clipped the wings of two of them,” added Sir Ger- 
vaise, “ and have fairly bagged a third, my good friend ; and, God 
willing, when Bluewater joins, there will not be much difficul- 
ty with the remainder. I cannot see that any of our vessels 
have suffered much, and I set them all down as sound. 
There’s been time for a signal of inability, that curse to an 
admiral’s evolutions, but no one seems disposed to make it. 
If we really escape that nuisance, it will be the first instance 
in my life !” 

“ Half-a-dozen yards may be crippled, and no one the 
worse for it, in this heavy weather. Were we under a press 
of canvass, it would be a different matter ; but, now, so long 
as the main sticks stand, we shall probably do well enough. I 
can find no injury in my own ship that may not be remedied 
at sea.” 

“ And she has had the worst of it. ’Twas a decided thing, 
Greenly, to engage such an odds in a gale ; but we owe our 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


419 


success, most probably, to the audacity of the attack. Had the 
enemy believed it possible, it is probable he would have frus- 
trated it. Well, Master Galleygo, I’m glad to see you unhurt ! 
What is your pleasure ?” 

“ Why, Sir Jarvy, I’ve two opportunities, as a body might 
say, on the poop, just now. One is to shake hands, as we 
always does a’ter a brush, you knows, sir, and to look a’ ter each 
other’s health ; and the other is to report a misfortin that will 
bear hard on this day’s dinner. You see. Sir Jarvy, I had the 
dead poultry slung in a net, over the live stock, to be out of 
harm’s way ; well, sir, a shot cut the lanyard, and let all the 
chickens down by the run, in among the gun-room grunters ; 
and as they never half feeds them hanimals, there isn’t as 
much left of the birds as would make a meal for a sick young 
gentleman. To my notion, no one ought to have live stock 
but the commanders-in-chief” 

“ To the devil with you and the stock ! Give me a shake 
of the hand, and back into your top — how came you, sir, to 
quit your quarters without leave ?” 

“ I didn’t. Sir Jarvy. Seeing how things was a going on, 
among the pigs, for our top hoverlooks the awful scene, I axed 
the young gentleman to let me come down to condole with 
your honour ; and as they always lets me do as I axes, 
in such matters, why down I come. We has had one rattler 
in at our top, howsever, that came nigh to clear us all out 
on it !” 

“ Is any spar injured ?” asked Sir Gervaise, quickly. 
“ This must be looked to — hey ! Greenly ?” 

“ Not to signify, your honour ; not to signify. One of them 
French eighteens aboard the prize just cocked its nose up, as 
the ship lurched, and let fly a round ’un and a grist of grape, 
right into our faces. I see’d it coming and sung out ‘ scald- 
ings and ’twas well I did. We all ducked in time, and 


420 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


the round ’un cleared every thing, but a handful of the 
marbles are planted in the head of the mast, making 
the spar look like a plum-pudding, or a fellow with the 
small-pox,” 

“ Enough of this. You are excused from returning to the 
top ; — and, Greenly, beat the retreat. Bunting, show the sig- 
nal for the retreat from quarters. Let the ships pipe to break- 
fast, if they will.” 

This order affords a fair picture of the strange admixture 
of feelings and employments that characterize the ordinary life 
of a ship. At one moment, its inmates find themselves en- 
gaged in scenes of wild magnificence and fierce confusion, while 
at the next they revert to the most familiar duties of humanity. 
The crews of the whole fleet now retired from the guns, 
and immediately after they were seated around their kids, in- * 
dulging ravenously in the food for which the exercise of the 
morning had given keen appetites. Still there was something 
of the sternness of battle in the merriment of this meal, and 
the few jokes that passed were seasoned with a bitterness that 
is not usual among the light-hearted followers of the sea. 
Here and there, a mess-mate was missed, and the vacancy 
produced some quaint and even pathetic allusion to his habits, 
or to the manner in which he met his death ; seamen usually 
treating the ravages of this great enemy of the race, after the 
blow has been struck, with as much solemnity and even ten- 
derness, as they regard his approaches with levity. It is when 
spared themselves, that they most regard the destruction of 
• *ttle. A man’s standing in a ship, too, carries great weight 
ath it, at such times ; the loss of the quarter-master, in par- 
cular, being much regretted in the Plantagenet. This man 
..iiessed with a portion of the petty officers, a set of men alto- 
gether more thoughtful and grave than the body of the crew ; 
and who met, when they assembled around their mess-chest, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


421 


that morning, with a sobriety and even sternness of mien, that 
showed how much in the management of the vessel had 
depended on their individual exertions. Several minutes 
elapsed in the particular mess of the dead man, before a word 
was spoken ; all eating with appetites that were of proof, but 
no one breaking the silence. At length an old quarter-gunner, 
named Tom Sponge, who generally led the discourse, said in a 
sort of half-inquiring, half-regretting, way — 

“ I suppose there’s no great use in asking why Jack Glass's 
spoon is idle this morning. They says, them forecastle chaps, 
that they see’d his body streaming out over the starboard 
quarter, as if it had been the fly of one of his own ensigns. 
How was it, Ned ? you was thereaway, and ought to know all 
about it.” 

“ To be sure I does,” said Ned, who was Bunting’s remain- 
ing assistant. “ I was there, as you says, and see’d as much 
of it as a man can see of what passes between a poor fellow 
and a shot, when they comes together, and that not in a very 
loving manner. It happened just as we come upon the weath- 
er beam of that first chap — him as we winged so handsomely 
among us. Well, Sir Jarvy had clapped a stopper on the 
signals, seeing as we had got fairly into the smoke, and Jack 
and I was looking about us for the muskets, not knowing but 
a chance might turn up to chuck a little lead into some of the 
parly-woos ; and so says Jack, says he, ‘ Ned, you’s got my 
musket ; — (as I had, sure enough) — and says he, ‘ Ned, you’s 
got my musket ; but no matter arter all, as they’re much of a 
muchness.’ So when he’d said this, he lets fly ; but whether 
he hit any body, is more than I can say. If he did, ’twas 
likely a Frenchman, as he shot that-a-way. ‘ Now,’ says Jack, 
says he, ‘ Ned, as this is your musket, you can load it, and hand 

over mine, and I’ll sheet home another of the b s.’ Well, 

at that moment the Frenchman lifted for’ard, on a heavy swell, 

36 


422 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


and let drive at us, with all his forecastle guns, fired as it 
might be with one priming — ” 

“ That was bad gunnery,” growled Tom Sponge, “ it racks 
a ship woundily.” 

“ Yes, they’se no judgment in ships, in general. Well, 
them French twelves are spiteful guns ; and a little afore 
they fired, it seemed to me I heard something give Jack a rap 
on the cheek, that sounded as if a fellow’s ear was boxed with 
a clap of thunder. I looked up, and there was Jack stream- 
ing out like the fly of the ensign, head foremost, with the body 
towing after it by strings in the neck.” 

“ I thought when a fellow’s head was shot off,” put in 
another quarter-master named Ben Barrel, “ that the body was 
left in the ship while only the truck went !” 

“ That comes of not seeing them things, Ben,” rejoined the 
eye-witness. “ A fellow’s head is staid in its berth just like a 
ship’s mast. There’s for’ard and back-stays, and shrouds, all’s 
one as aboard here ; the only difference is that the lanyards 
are a little looser, so as to give a man more play for his head, 
than it might be safe to give to a mast. When a fellow makes 
a bow, why he only comes up a little aft, and bowses on the 
fore-stay, and now and then you falls in with a chap that is 
stayed altogether too far for’ard, or who’s got a list perhaps 
from having the shrouds set up too taut to port or to star- 
board.” 

“ That sounds reasonable,” put in the quarter-gunner, 
gravely ; “ I’ve seen such droggers myself.” 

“ If you’d been on the poop an hour or too ago, you’d ha’ 
seen more on it i Now, therels all our marines, their back- 
stays have had a fresh pull since they were launched, and, 
as for their captain. I’ll warrant you, he had a luff upon 
lufi’!” 

“ I’ve heard the carpenter overhauling them matters,” re- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


423 


marked Sam Wad, another quarter-gunner, “ and he chalked 
it all out by the square and compass. It seems reasonable, 
too.” 

“ If you’d seen Jack’s head dragging his body overboard, 
just like the Frenchman dragging his wreck under his lee, 
you’d ha’ thought it reasonable. What’s a fellow’s shoulders 
for, but to give a spread to his shrouds, which lead down the 
neck and are set up under the arms somewhere. They says a 
great deal about the heart, and I reckons it’s likely every 
thing is key’d there.” 

“ Harkee, Ned,” observed a quarter-master, who knew 
little more than the mess generally, “if what you say is true, 
why don’t these shrouds lead straight from the head to the 
shoulders, instead of being all tucked up under a skin in the 
neck ? Answer me that, now.” 

“ Who the devil ever saw a ship’s shrouds that wasn’t cat- 
harpened in !” exclaimed Ned, with some heat. “ A pretty 
hand a wife would make of it, in putting her arms around a 
fellow’s neck if the rigging spread in the way you mean ! 
Them things is all settled accordin’ to reason when a chap’s 
keel’s laid.” 

This last argument seemed to dispose of the matter, the 
discourse gradually turning on, and confining itself to the 
merits of the deceased. 

Sir Gervaise had directed Galleygo to prepare his break- 
fast as soon as the people were piped to their own ; but he was 
still detained on deck in consequence of a movement in one of 
his vessels, to which it has now become necessary more par- 
ticularly to recur. 

The appearance of the Druid to the northward, early in 
the morning, will doubtless be remembered by the reader. 
When near enough to have it made out, this frigate had 
shown her number ; after which she rested satisfied with 


424 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


carrying sail much harder than any vessel in sight. When 
the fleets engaged, she made an effort to set the fore-top-sail, 
close-reefed, but several of the critics in the other ships, who 
occasionally noticed her movements, fancied that some acci- 
dent must have befallen her, as the canvass was soon taken 
in, and she appeared disposed to remain content with the sail 
carried when first seen. As this ship was materially to wind- 
ward of the line, and she was running the whole time a little 
free, her velocity was much greater than that of the other ves- 
sels, and by this time she had got so near that Sir Gervaise 
observed she was fairly abeam of the Plantagenet, and a little 
to leeward of the Active. Of course her hull, even to the 
bottom, as she rose on a sea, was plainly visible, and such of 
her people as were in the tops and rigging could be easily 
distinguished by the naked eye. 

“ The Druid must have some communication for us from 
the other division of the fleet,” observed the vice-admiral to 
his signal-officer, as they stood watching the movements of the 
frigate ; “it is a little extraordinary Blewet does not signal ! 
Look at the book, and find me a question to put that will ask 
his errand ?” 

Bunting was in the act of turning over the leaves of his 
little vocabulary of questions and answers, when three or four 
dark balls, that Sir Gervaise, by the aid of the glass, saw sus- 
pended between the frigate’s masts, opened into flags, effectu- 
ally proving that Blewet was not absolutely asleep. 

“ Four hundred and sixteen, ordinary communication,” 
observed the vice-admiral, with his eye still at the glass. 
“ Look up that. Bunting, and let us know what it means.” 

“ The commander-in-chief — wish to speak him !” read 
Bunting, in the customary formal manner in which he an- 
nounced the purport of a signal. 

“Very well — answer; then make the Druid’s number 


TUB TWO ADMIRALS. 


425 


to come within hail! The fellow has got cloth enough 
spread to travel two feet to our one ; let him edge away and 
come under our lee. Speaking will be rather close work to- 
day.” 

“ I doubt if a ship can come near enough to make herself 
heard,” returned the other, “ though the second lieutenant of 
that ship never uses a trumpet in the heaviest weather, they 
tell me, sir. Our gents say his father was a town-crier, and 
that he has inherited the family estate.” 

“ Ay, our gents are a set of saucy fellows, as is usually the 
case when there isn’t work enough aboard.” 

“ You should make a little allowance. Sir Gervaise, for 
being in the ship of a successful commander-in-chief. That 
makes us all carry weather-helms among the other messes.” 

“ Up with your signal, sir ; up with your signal. I shall 
be obliged to order Greenly to put you upon watch-and- watch 
for a month, in order to bring you down to the old level of 
manners.” 

“ Signal answered, already. Sir Gervaise. By the way, sir, 
I’ll thank you to request Captain Greenly to give me another 
quarter-master. It’s nimble work for us when there is any 
thing serious to do.” 

“ You shall have him. Bunting,” returned the vice-admiral, 
a shade passing over his face for the moment. “ I had missed 
poor Jack Glass, and from seeing a spot of blood on the poop, 
guessed his fate. I fancied, indeed, I heard a shot strike 
something behind me.” 

“ It struck the poor fellow’s head, sir, and made a noise as 
if a butcher were felling an ox.” 

“ Well — well — let us try to forget it, until something can 
be done for his son, who is one of the side boys. Ah ! there’s 
Blewet keeping away in earnest. How the deuce he is to 
speak us, however, is more than I can tell ” 

56 * 


426 


the two admirals. 


Sir Gervaise now sent a message to his captain to say 
that he desired his presence. Greenly soon appeared, and 
was made acquainted with the intention of the Druid, as 
well as with the purport of the last signals. By this time, 
the rent main-top-sail was mended, and the captain suggested 
it should be set again, close-reefed, as before, and that the 
mainsail should be taken in. This would lessen the Plan- 
tagenet’s way, which ship was sensibly drawing ahead of her 
consorts. Sir Gervaise assenting, the change was made, and 
the effects were soon apparent, not only in the movement of 
the ship, but in her greater ease and steadiness of motion. 

It was not long before the Druid was within a hundred 
fathoms of the flag-ship, on her weather-quarter, shoving the 
brine before her in a way to denote a fearful momentum. It 
was evidently the intention of Captain Blewet to cross the 
Plantagenet’s stern, and to luff up under her lee quarter ; the 
safest point at which he could approach, in so heavy a swell, 
provided it were done with discretion. Captain Blewet had 
a reputation for handling his frigate like a boat, and the 
occasion was one which would be likely to awaken all his 
desire to sustain the character he had already earned. Still 
no one could imagine how he was to come near enough to 
make a communication of any length. The stentorian lungs 
of the second lieutenant, however, might effect it ; and, as the 
news of the expected hail passed through the ship, many who 
had remained below, in apathy, while the enemy was close 
under their lee, came on deck, curious to witness what was 
about to pass. 

“ Hey ! Atwood ?” exclaimed Sir Gervaise, for the little 
excitement had brought the secretary up from the Commander- 
in-chiefs cabin ; — “ what is Blewet at ! The fellow cannot 
mean to set a studding-sail !” 

“ He is running out a boom, nevertheless, Sir Gervaise, or 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


427 


my thirty years’ experience of’ nautical things have been 
thrown away.” 

“ He is truly rigging out his weather fore-topmast-studding- 
sail-boom, sir !” added Grreenly, in a tone of wonder. 

“ It is out,” rejoined the vice-admiral, as one would give 
emphasis to the report of a calamity. “ Hey ! — what ? Isn’t 
that a man they’re running up to the end of it. Bunting ? 
Level your glass, and let us know at once.” 

“ A glass is not necessary to make out that much. Sir 
Gervaise. It is a man, beyond a doubt, and there he 
hangs at the boom- end, as if sentenced by a general court- 
martial.” 

Sir Gervaise now suppressed every expression of surprise, 
and his reserve w'as imitated, quite as a matter of course, by 
the twenty officers, who, by this time, had assembled on the 
poop. The Druid, keeping away' approached rapidly, and had 
soon crossed the flag-ship’s wake. Here she came by the wind, 
and favoured by the momentum with which she had come 
down, and the addition of the mainsail, drew heavily but 
steadily up on her lee-quarter. Both vessels being close- 
hauled, it was not difficult steering ; and by watching the 
helms closely, it w'ould have been possible, perhaps, notwith- 
standing the heavy sea, to have brought the two hulls within 
ten yards of each other, and no harm should come of it. This 
was nearer, however, than it w^as necessary to approach ; the 
studding-sail-boom, with the man suspended on the end of it, 
projecting twice that distance, beyond the vessel’s bows. Still 
it was nice work ; and while yet some thirty or forty feet from 
the perpendicular, the man on the boom-end made a sign for 
attention, swims’ a coil of line he held, and when he saw 
hands raised to catch it, he made a cast. A lieutenant caught 
the rope, and instantly hauled in the slack. As the object 
was now understood, a dozen others laid hold of the line, and, 


4 ' 


428 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


at a common signal, when those on board the Plantagenet 
hauled in strongly, the people of the Druid lowered away. 
By this simple, but united movement, the man descended ob- 
liquely, leaping out of the bowline in which he had sat, and 
casting the whip adrift. Shaking himself to gain his footing, 
he raised his cap and bowed to Sir Gervaise, who now saw 
Wycherly Wychecombe on his poop. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


“Yet weep not thou — the struggle is not o’er, 

O victors of Philippi ! many a field 
Hath yielded palms to us one eflbrt more, 

By one stern conflict must our fate be sealed.” 

Mrs. Hemans. 


As soon as the people of the Plantagenet, who had so far 
trespassed on discipline, when they perceived a man hanging 
at the end of the studding-sail-boom, as to appear in the rig- 
ging, on the booms, and on the guns, to watch the result, saw 
the stranger safely landed on the poop, they lifted their hats 
and caps, and, as one voice, greeted him with three cheers. 
The officers smiled at this outbreak of feeling, and the viola- 
tion of usage was forgotten ; the rigid discipline of a man-of- 
war even, giving way occasionally to the sudden impulses of 
natural feeling. 

As the Druid approached the flag-ship. Captain Blewet had 
appeared in her weather mizzen -rigging, conning his vessel in 
person ; and the order to luff, or keep ofl^ had been given by 
his own voice, or by a gesture of his own hand. As soon as he 
saw Wycherly’s feet on the poop of the Plantagenet, and his 
active form freed from the double-bowline, in which it had been 
seated, the captain made a wide sweep of the arm, to denote 
his desire to edge away ; the helm of the frigate was borne 
up hard, and, as the two-decker surged ahead on the bosom of 
a sea, the Druid’s bows were knocked off to leeward, leaving 
a space of about a hundred feet, or more, between the two 
ships, as it might be, in an instant. The same causes con 


430 


the two admirals. 


tinuing to operate, the Plantagenet drove still farther ahead, 
while the frigate soon came to the wind again, a cable’s-length 
to leeward, and abreast of the space between the admiral and 
his second, astern. Here, Captain Blewet seemed disposed to 
wait for further orders. 

Sir Gervaise Oakes was not accustomed to betray any 
surprise he might feel at little events that occurred on duty. 
He returned the bow of Wycherly, coolly, and then, without 
question or play of feature, turned his eyes on the further 
movements of the Druid. Satisfied that all was right with 
the frigate, he directed the messenger to follow him, and went 
below himself, leaving Wycherly to obey as fast as the many 
inquiries he had to answer as he descended the ladders would 
allow. Atwood, an interested observer of what had passed, 
noted that Captain Greenly, of all present, was the only per- 
son who seemed indifferent to the nature of the communica- 
tion the stranger might bring, though perhaps the only one 
entitled by rank to put an interrogatory. 

“ You have come aboard of us in a novel and extraordinary 
mode. Sir Wycherly Wychecombe I” observed the vice-admiral, 
a little severely, as soon as he found himself in his own cabin, 
alone with the lieutenant. 

“ It was the plan of Captain Blewet, sir, and was really 
the only one that seemed likely to succeed, for a boat could 
scarcely live. I trust the success of the experiment, and the 
nature of the communications I may bring, will be thought 
sufficient excuses for the want of ceremony.” 

“ It is the first time, since the days of the Conqueror, I 
fancy, that an English vice-admiral’s ship has been boarded so 
cavalierly ; but, as you say, the circumstances may justify the 
innovation, Vf hat is your errand, sir ?” 

“ This letter, I presume. Sir Gervaise, will explain itself. 
I have little to say in addition, except to report that the Druid 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


43 ] 


has sprung her foremast in carrying sail to close with you, and 
that we have not lost a moment since Admiral Bluewater or- 
dered us to part company with himself.” 

“ You sailed on board the Csesar, then ?” asked Sir Ger- 
vaise, a great deal mollified by the zeal for service in a youth, 
situated ashore, as he knew Wycherly to be. “ You left her, 
with this letter ?” 

“ I did. Sir Gervaise, at Admiral Bluewater’s command.” 

“ Did you go aboard the Druid boom-fashion, or was that 
peculiar style reserved for the command er-in-chief?” 

“ I left the Csesar in a boat. Sir Gervaise ; and though we 
were much nearer in with the coast, where the wind has not 
the rake it has here, and the strength of the gale had not then 
come, we were nearly swamped.” 

“ If a true Virginian, you would not have drowned, Wyche- 
combe,” answered the vice-admiral, in better humour. “ You 
Americans swim like cork. Excuse me, while I read what 
Admiral Bluewater has to say.” 

Sir Gervaise had received Wycherly in the great cabin, 
standing at the table which was lashed in its centre. He 
would have been puzzled himself, perhaps, to have given the 
real reason why he motioned to the young man to take a chair, 
while he went into what he called his “ drawing-room or 
the beautiful little apartment between the two state-rooms, aft, 
which was fitted with an elegance that might have been ad- 
mired in a more permanent dwelling, and whither he always 
withdrew when disposed to reflection. It was probably con- 
nected, however, with a latent apprehension of the rear-ad- 
miral’s political bias, for, when by himself, he paused fully a 
minute before he opened the letter. Condemning this hesita- 
tion as unmanly, he broke the seal, however, and read the 
contents of a letter, which was couched in the following 


terms : 


432 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ My dear Oakes : — Since we parted, rny mind has under- 
gone some violent misgivings as to the course duty requires of 
me, in this great crisis. One hand — one heart — one voice 
even, may decide the fate of England ! In such circumstances, 
all should listen to the voice of conscience, and endeavour to 
foresee the consequences of their own acts. Confidential agents 
are in the west of England, and one of them I have seen. By 
his communications I find more depends on myself than I 
could have imagined, and more on the movements of M. de 
Vervillin. Do not be too sanguine — take time for your own 
decisions, and grant me time ; for I feel like a wretch whose 
fate must soon be sealed. On no account engage, because you 
think this division near enough to sustain you, but at least 
keep off until you hear from me more positively, or we can 
meet. I find it equally hard to strike a blow against my right- 
ful prince, or to desert my friend. For God’s sake act prudent- 
ly, and depend on seeing me in the course of the next twenty- 
four hours. I shall keep well to the eastward, in the hope of 
falling in with you, as I feel satisfied de Vervillin has nothing 
to do very far west. I may send some verbal message by the 
bearer, for my thoughts come sluggishly, and with great re- 
luctance. 

“ Ever yours, 

“ Bichard Bluewater.” 

Sir Gervaise Oakes read this letter twice with great deliber- 
ation ; then he crushed it in his hand, as one would strangle a 
deadly serpent. Not satisfied with this manifestation of dis- 
taste, he tore the letter into pieces so small as to render it 
impossible to imagine its contents, opened a cabin- window', and 
threw the fragments into the ocean. When he fancied that 
every sign of his friend’s weakness had thus been destroyed, he 
began to pace the cabin in his usual manner. Wycherly 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


433 


heard his step, and wondered at the delay ; hut his duty com- 
pelled him to pass an uncomfortable half-hour in silence, ere 
the door opened, and Sir Gerv^aise appeared. The latter had 
suppressed the signs of distress, though the lieutenant could 
perceive he was unusually anxious. 

“ Did the rear-admiral send any message. Sir Wycherly V* 
inquired Sir Gervaise ; “ in his letter he would seem to refer 
me to some verbal explanations from yourself.” 

“ I am ashamed to say, sir, none that I can render very 
intelligible. Admiral Bluewater, certainly, did make a few 
communications that I was to repeat, but when we had parted, 
by some extraordinary dullness of my own I fear, I find it is 
out of my power to give them any very great distinctness or 
connection.” 

“ Perhaps the fault is less your own, sir, than his. Blue- 
water is addicted to fits of absence of mind, and then he has no 
reason to complain that others do not understand him, for he 
does not always understand himself.” 

Sir Gervaise said this with a little glee, deUghted at finding 
his friend had not committed himself to his messenger. The 
latter, however, was less disposed to excuse himself by such a 
process, inasmuch as he felt certain that the rear-admiral’s 
feelings were in the matter he communicated, let the manner 
have been what it might. 

“I do not think we can attribute any thing to Admiral 
Bluewater’ s absence of mind, on this occasion, sir,” answered 
Wycherly, with generous frankness. “ His feelings appeared 
to be strongly enlisted in what he said. It might have 
been owing to the strength of these feelings that he was a 
little obscure, but it could not have been owing to indif- 
ference.” 

“ I shall best understand the matter, then, by hearing 
what he did say, sir.” 

:?7 


434 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


"Wycherly paused, and endeavoured to recall what had 
passed, in a way to make it intelligible. 

“ I was frequently told to caution you not to engage the 
French, sir, until the other division had closed, and was ready 
to assist. But, really, whether this was owing to some secret 
information that the rear-admiral had obtained, or to a natural 
desire to have a share in the battle, is more than I can say.” 

“Each may have had its influence. Was any allusion 
made to secret intelligence, that you name it ?” 

“ I never felt more cause to be ashamed of my own dull- 
ness, than at this present moment. Sir Gervaise Oakes,” ex- 
claimed Wycherly, who almost writhed under the awkward- 
ness of his situation : for he really began to suspect that his 
own personal grounds of unhappiness had induced him to forget 
some material part of his message ; — “ recent events ashore, 
had perhaps disqualified me for this duty.” 

“It is natural it should be so, my young friend ; and as I 
am acquainted with them all, you can rest satisfied with my 
indulgence.” 

“ All ! no — Sir Gervaise, you know not half — ^but, I forget 
myself, sir, and beg your pardon.” 

“ I have no wish to pry into your secrets. Sir Wycherly 
Wychecombe, and we will drop the subject. You may say, 
however, if the rear-admiral was in good spirits — as an English 
seaman is apt to be, with the prospect of a great battle before 
him.” 

“ I thought not. Sir Gervaise. Admiral Bluewater to me 
seemed sad, if I may presume to mention it — almost to tears, 
I thought, sir, one or twice.” 

“ Poor Dick !” mentally ejaculated the vice-admiral ; “ he 
never could have made up his mind to desert me without great 
anguish of soul. Was there any thing said,” speaking aloud, 
“ about the fleet of M. de Vervillin ?” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


435 


“ Certainly a good deal, sir ; and yet am I ashamed to say, 
T scarce know what ! Admiral Bluewater appeared to think 
the Comte de Vervillin had no intention to strike a blow at 
any of our colonies, and with this he seemed to connect the 
idea that there would be less necessity for our engaging him. 
At all events, I cannot he mistaken in his wish that you would 
keep off, sir, until he could close.” 

“ Ay, and you see how instinctively I have answered to 
his wishes !” said Sir Gervaise, smiling a little bitterly. 
“ Nevertheless, had the rear of the fleet been up this morn- 
ing, Sir Wycherly, it might have been a glorious day for 
England !” 

“ It has been a glorious day, as it is, sir. We, in the 
Druid, saw it all ; and there was not one among us that did 
not exult in the name of Englishman !” 

“ What, even to the Virginian, Wychecombe !” rejoined 
Sir Gervaise, greatly gratified with the natural commendation 
conveyed in the manner and words of the other, and looking 
in a smiling, friendly manner, at the young man. “ I was 
afraid the hits you got in Devonshire might have induced you 
to separate your nationality from that of old England.” 

“ Even to the Virginian, Sir Gervaise. You have been in 
the colonies, sir, and must know we do not merit all that we 
sometimes receive, on this side of the Atlantic. The king has 
no subjects more loyal than those of America.” 

“ I am fully aware of it, my noble lad, and have told the 
king as much, with my own mouth. But think no more of 
this If your old uncle did give you an occasional specimen of 
true John Bullism, he has left you an honourable title and a 
valuable estate. I shall see that Greenly finds a berth for 
you, and you will consent to mess with me, I hope. I trust 
some time to see you at Bowldero. At present we will go on 
deck; and if any thing that Admiral Bluewater has said 


436 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


should lecur to your mind more distinctly, you will not forget 
to let me know it.” 

Wycherly now bowed and left the cabin, while Sir Ger- 
vaise sat down and wrote a note to Greenly to request that he 
would look a little after the comfort of the young man. The 
latter then went on deck, in person. Although he endeavoured 
to shake off the painful doubts that beset him, and to appear 
as cheerful as became an officer who had just performed a 
brilliant exploit, the vice-admiral found it difficult to conceal 
the shock he had received from Bluewater’s communication. 
Certain as he felt of striking a decisive blow at the enemy, 
could he be reinforced with the five ships of the rear division, 
he would cheerfully forego the triumph' of such additional suc- 
cess, to be certain his friend did not intend to carry his dis- 
affection to overt acts. He found it hard to believe that a man 
like Bluewater could really contemplate carrying off with him 
the ships he commanded ; yet he knew the authority his friend 
wielded over his captains, and the possibility of such a step 
would painfully obtrude itself on his mind, at moments. 
“ When a man can persuade himself into all the nonsense 
connected with the jus divinum'' thought Sir Gervaise, “ it 
is doing no great violence to common sense to persuade himself 
into all its usually admitted consequences.” Then, again, 
would interpose his recollections of Bluewater’s integrity and 
simplicity of character, to reassure him, and give him more 
cheering hopes for the result. Finding himself thus vacilla- 
ting between hope and dread, the commander-in-ehief deter- 
mined to drive the matter temporarily from his mind, by 
bestowing his attention on the part of the fleet he had with 
him. Just as this wise resolution was formed, both Greenly 
and Wycherly appeared on the poop. 

“ I am glad to see you with a hungry look, Greenly,” cried 
Sir Gervaise, cheerfully ; “ here has Galleygo just been to re- 


THE TWO admirals. 


437 


port his breakfast, and, as I know your cabin has not been put 
in order since the people left the guns, I hope for the pleasure 
of your company. Sir Wycherly, my gallant young Virginian, 
here, will take the third chair, I trust, and then our party will 
be complete.” 

The two gentlemen assenting, the vice-admiral w'as about 
to lead the way below, when suddenly arresting his footsteps, 
on the poop-ladder, he said — 

“ Did you not tell me, "W^ychecomhe, that the Druid had 
sprung her foremast ?” 

“ Badly, I believe. Sir Gervaise, in the hounds. Captain 
Blewet carried on his ship fearfully, all night.” 

“ Ay, he’s a fearful fellow with spars, that Tom Blewet. I 
never felt certain of finding all the sticks in their places, on 
turning out of a morning, when he was with you as a 
lieutenant. Greenly. How many jib-booms and top-gallant 
yards did he cost us, in that cruise off the Cape of Good 
Hope ? By George, it must have been a dozen, at least !” 

“ Not quite as had as that, Sir Gervaise, though he did 
expend two jib-booms and three top-gallant yards, for me. 
Captain Blewet has a fast ship, and he wishes people to know 
it.” 

“ And he has sprung his foremast and he shall see I know 
it ! Harkee, Bunting, make the Druid’s number to lie by the 
prize ; and when that’s answered, tell him to take charge of 
the Frenchman, and to wait for further orders. I’ll send him 
to Plymouth to get a new foremast, and to see the stranger in. 
By the way, does any body know the name of the Frenchman 
— hoy ! Greenly ?” 

“ I cannot tell you. Sir Gers’-aise, though some of our gen- 
tlemen think it is the ship that was the admiral’s second 
ahead, in our brush ofi’ Cape Finisterre. I am not of the 
same opinion, however ; for that vessel had a billet-head, and 

37 * 


438 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


this has a woman figure-head, that looks a little like a Minerva- 
The French have a la Minerve, I think.” 

“Not now, Greenly, if this be she, for she is ours.'' Here 
Sir Gervaise laughed heartily at his own humour, and all near 
him joined in, as a matter of course. “ But la Minerve has 
been a frigate time out of mind. The Goddess of Wisdom has 
never been fool enough to get into a line of battle when she 
has had it in her power to prevent it.” 

“ We thought the figure-head of the prize a Venus, as we 
passed her in the Druid,” Wycherly modestly observed. 

“ There is a way of knowing, and it shall be tried. When 
you’ve done with the Druid, Bunting, make the prize’s signal 
to repeat her name by telegraph. You know how to make a 
prize’s number, I suppose, when she has none." 

“ I confess I do not. Sir Gervaise,” answered Bunting, who 
had shown by his manner that he was at a loss. “ Having no 
number in our books, one would be at a stand how to get at 
her, sir.” 

“How would you do it, young man?” asked Sir Ger- 
vaise, who all this time was hanging on to the man-rope of 
the poop-ladder. “ Let us see how well you’ve been taught, 
sir.” 

“ I believe it may be done in different modes. Sir Gervaise,” 
Wycherly answered, without any appearance of triumph at his 
superior readiness, “ but the simplest I know is to hoist the 
French flag under the English, by way of saying for whom 
the signal is intended.” 

“ Do it. Bunting,” continued Sir Gervaise, nodding his 
head as he descended the ladder, “ and I warrant you, Daly 
will answer. What sort of work he will make with the 
Frenchman’s flags, is another matter. I doubt, too, if he had 
the wit to carry one of our books with him, in which case he 
will be at a loss to read our signal. Try him, however. Bunt- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


439 


ing ; an Irishman always has something to say, though it be 
a hull.” 

This order given, Sir Gervaise descended to his cabin. In 
half an hour the party was seated at table, as quietly as if 
nothing unusual had occurred that day. 

“The worst of these little brushes which lead to nothing, 
is that they leave as strong a smell of gunpowder in your cabin. 
Greenly, as if a whole fleet had been destroyed,” observed the 
vice-admiral good-humouredly, as he began to help his guests. 
“ I hope the odour we have here will not disturb your appe- 
tites, gentlemen.” 

“ You do this day’s success injustice, Sir Gervaise, in calling 
it only a bmsh,” answered the captain, who, to say the truth, 
had fallen to as heartily upon the delicacies of Galleygo, as 
if he had not eaten in twenty-four hours. “ At any rate, it 
has brushed the spars out of two of king Louis’s ships, and 
one of them into our hands ; ay, and in a certain sense into 
our pockets.” 

“ Q,uite true. Greenly — quite true ; but what would it 
have been if — ” 

The sudden manner in which the commander-in-chief 
ceased speaking, induced his companions to think that he had 
met with some accident in eating or drinking ; both looked 
earnestly at him, as if to offer assistance. He was pale in the 
face, but he smiled, and otherwise appeared at his ease. 

“It is over, gentlemen,” said Sir Gervaise, gently — “we’ll 
think no more of it.” 

“ I sincerely hope you’ve not been hit, sir ?” said Greenly. 
“ I’ve known men hit, who did not discover that they were 
hurt until some sudden weakness has betrayed it,” 

“ I believe the French have let me off this time, my good 
friend — yes, I think Magrath will be plugging no shot-holes 
in my hull for this affair. Sir Wycherly, those eggs are from 


440 


•THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


your own estate, Galleygo having laid the manor under con- 
tribution for all sorts of good things. Try them, Greenly, as 
coming from our friend’s property.” 

“ Sir Wycherly is a lucky fellow in having an estate,” 
said the captain. “ Few officers of his rank can boast of 
such an advantage ; though, now and then, an old one is 
better off.” 

“ That is true enough — hey ! Greenly? The army fetches 
up most of the fortunes ; for your rich fellows like good county 
quarters and county balls. I was a younger brother when they 
sent me to sea, but I became a baronet, and a pretty warm 
one too. While yet a reefer. Poor Josselin died when I was 
only sixteen, and at seventeen they made me an officer.” 

“ Ay, and we like you all the better. Sir Gervaise, for not 
giving us up when the money came. Now Lord Morganic 
was a captain when he succeeded, and we think much less 
of that.” 

“ Morganic remains in service, to teach us how to stay 
top-masts and paint figure-heads ;” observed Sir Gervaise, a 
little drily. “And yet the fellow handled his ship well to- 
day ; making much better weather of it than I feared he 
would be able to do.” 

“ I hear we are likely to get another duke in the navy, 
sir ; it’s not often we catch one of that high rank.” 

Sir Gervaise cared much less for things of this sort than 
Bluewater, but he naturally cast a glance at the speaker, as 
this was said, as much as to ask whom he meant. 

“ They tell me, sir, that Lord Montresor, the elder brother 
of the boy in the CsBsar, is in a bad way, and Lord Geoffrey 
stands next to the succession. I think there is too much 
stuff in him to quit us now he is almost fit to get his com- 
mission.” 

“ True, Bluewater has that boy of high hopes and promise 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


441 


with him, too answered Sir Gervaise in a musing manner, 
unconscious of what he said. “ God send he may not forget 
tho.t^ among other things !” 

“ I don’t think rank makes any difference with Admiral 
Bluewater, or Captain Stowel. The nobles are worked up in 
their ship, as well as the humblest reefer of them all. Here is 
Bunting, sir, to tell us something.” 

Sir Gervaise started from a fit of abstraction, and, turning, 
he saw his signal-officer ready to report. 

“The Druid has answered properly, Sir Gervaise, and has 
already hauled up so close that I think she will luff through 
the line, though it may be astern of the Carnatic.” 

“ And the prize. Bunting ? Have you signalled the prize, 
as I told you to do ?” 

“ Yes, sir ; and she has answered so properly that I make 
no question the prize-officer took a book with him. The tele- 
graphic signal was answered like the other.” 

“Well, what does he say ? Have you found out the name 
of the Frenchman ?” 

“ That’s the difficulty, sir ; vje are understood, but Mr. 
Daly has shown something aboard the prize that the quarter- 
master swears is a paddy.” 

“ A paddy ! — What, he hasn’t had himself run up at a 
yard-arm, or stun’sail-boom end, has he — hey ! Wychecombe ? 
Daly’s an Irishman, and has only to show himself to show a 
paddy.” 

“ But this is a sort of an image of some kind or other. Sir 
Gervaise, and yet it isn’t Mr. Daly. I rather think he hasn’t 
the flags necessary for our words, and has rigged out a sort of 
a woman, to let us know his ship’s name ; for she has a 
woman figure-head, you know, sir.” 

“ The devil he has ! Well, that wdll form an era in sig- 
nals. Galleygo, look out at the cabin window and let me 


442 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


know if you can see the prize from them — well, sir, what’s the 
news ?” 

“ I sees her. Sir Jarvy,” answered the steward, “ and I sees 
her where no French ship as sails in company with British 
vessels has a right to be. If she’s a fathom, your honour, she’s 
fifty to windward of our line ! Q,uite out of her place, as a 
body might say, and onreasonable.” 

“ That’s owing to our having felled the forests of her masts, 
Mr. Galley go ; every spar that is left helping to put her where 
she is. That prize must be a weatherly ship, though, hey ! 
Greenly ? She and her consort were well to windward of 
their own line, or we could never have got ’em as we did. 
These Frenchmen do turn off a weatherly vessel now and then, 
that we must all admit.” 

“ Yes, Sir Jarvy,” put in Galleygo, who never let the con- 
versation flag when he was invited to take a part in it ; 
“ yes. Sir Jarvy, and when they’ve turned ’em off the stocks 
they turns ’em over to us, commonly, to sail ’em. Building 
a craft is one piece of knowledge, and sailing her well is 
another.” 

“ Enough of your philosophy, sirrah ; look and ascertain if 
there is any thing unusual to be seen hanging in the rigging of 
the prize. Unless you show more readiness. I’ll send one of 
the Bowlderos to help you.” 

These Bowlderos were the servants that Sir Gervaise 
brought wdth him from his house, having been born on his 
estate, and educated as domestics in his own, or his father’s 
family ; and though long accustomed to a man-of-war, as their 
ambition never rose above their ordinary service, the steward 
held them exceedingly cheap. A severer punishment could 
not be offered him, than to threaten to direct one of these 
common menials to do any duty that, in the least, pertained 
to the profession. The present menace had the desired effect, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


443 


Galleygo losing no time in critically examining the prize’s 
rigging. 

“ I calls nothing extr’ornary in a Frenchman’s rigging, Sir 
Jarvy,” answered the steward, as soon as he felt sure of .his 
fact ; “ their dock-men have idees of their own, as to such 
things. Now there is sum’mat hanging at the lee fore-yard- 
arm of that chap, that looks as if it might be a top-gallant- 
stun’sail made up to be sent aloft and set, but which stopped 
W'hen it got as high as it is, on finding out that there’s no 
hamper over-head to spread it to.” 

“ That’s it, sir,” put in Bunting. “ Mr. Daly has run his 
woman up to the fore-yard-arm, like a pirate.” 

“ Woman !” repeated Galleygo — “ do you call that ’ere 
thing-um-mee a woman, Mr. Buntin’ ? I calls it a bundle 
of flags, made up to set, if there was any thing to set ’em 
to.” 

“ It’s nothing but an Irish woman. Master Galleygo, as 
you’ll see for yourself, if you’ll level this glass at it.” 

“I’ll do that office myself,” cried Sir Gervaise. “Have 
you any curiosity, gentlemen, to read Mr, Daly’s signal ? Gal- 
leygo, open that weather window, and clear away the books 
and writing-desk, that we may have a look.” 

The orders were immediately obeyed, and the vice-admiral 
was soon seated examining the odd figure that was certainly 
hanging at the lee fore-yard-arm of the prize ; a perfect non- 
descript as regarded all nautical experience. 

“ Hang me, if I can make any thing of it, Greenly,” said Sir 
Gervaise, after a long look. “ Do you take this seat, and try 
your hand at an observation. It resembles a sort of a woman, 
sure enough.” 

“ Yes, sir,” observed Bunting, with the earnestness of a man 
who felt his reputation involved in the issue, “ I was certain 
that Mr* Daly has run up the figure to let us know the name 


444 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


of the prize, and that for want of a telegraph- book to signal 
the letters ; and so I made sure of what I was about, before I 
took the liberty to come below and report.” 

“ And pray what do you make of it. Bunting ? The 
figure-head might tell us better, but that seems to be im- 
perfect.” 

“ The figure-head has lost all its bust, and one arm, by a 
shot,” said Greenly, turning the glass to the object named ; 

and I can tell Mr. Daly that a part of the gammoning of his 
bowsprit is gone, too ! That ship requires looking to. Sir 
Gervaise ; she’ll have no foremast to-morrow morning, if this 
wind stand ! Another shot has raked the lower side of her 
fore-top, and carried away half the frame. Yes, and there’s 
been a fellow at work, too — ” 

“ Never mind the shot — never mind the shot. Greenly,” in- 
terrupted the vice-admiral. “ A poor devil like him, couldn’t 
have six of us at him, at once, and expect to go ‘ shot free.’ 
Tell us something of the woman.” 

“ Well, Sir Gervaise, no doubt Daly has hoisted her as a 
symbol. Ay, no doubt the ship is the Minerva, after all, for 
there’s something on the head like a helmet.” 

“ It never can be the Minerva,” said the vice-admiral, posi- 
tively, “ for sJie, I feel certain, is a frigate. Hand me the 
little book with a red cover. Bunting ; that near your hand ; 
it has a list of the enemy’s navy. Here it is, ‘ Za Minerve, 32, 
le capitaine de fregate, Mondon. Built in 1733, old and dull.’ 
That settles the Minerva, for this list is the last sent us by the 
admiralty.” 

“ Then it must be the Pallas,” rejoined Greenly, “ for she 
wears a helmet, too, and I am certain there is not only a cap 
to resemble a helmet, but a Guernsey frock on the body to 
represent armour. Both Minerva and Pallas, if I remember 
right, wore armour.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


445 


“ This is coming nearer to the point, — hey ! Greenly ?” the 
vice-admiral innocently chimed in ; “ let us look and see if the 
Pallas is a two-decker or not. By George, there’s no such 
name on the list. That’s odd, now, that the French should 
have one of these goddesses and not the other !” 

“ They never has any thing right. Sir Jarvy,” Galleygo 
thrust in, by way of commentary on the vice-admiral’s and the 
captain’s classical lore ; “ and it’s surprising to me that they 
should have any goddess at all, seeing that they has so little 
respect for religion, in general.” 

Wycherly fidgeted, but respect for his superiors kept 
him silent. As for Bunting, ’twas all the same to him, his 
father having been a purser in the navy, and he himself 
educated altogether on board ship, and this, too a century 
since. 

“ It might not be amiss. Sir Gervaise,” observed the 
captain, “ to work this rule backwards, and just look over the 
list until we find a two-decked ship that ought to have a 
woman figure-head, which will greatly simplify the matter. 
I’ve known difficult problems solved in that mode.” 

The idea struck Sir Gervaise as a good one, and he set 
about the execution of the project in good earnest. Just as he 
came to V Hecate, 64, an exclamation from Greenly caught his 
attention, and he inquired its cause. 

“ Look for yourself. Sir Gervaise ; unless my eyes are good 
for nothing, Daly is running a kedge up alongside of his 
woman.” 

“ What, a kedge ? — Ay, that is intended for an anchor, 
and it means Hope. Every body knows that Hope carries 
an anchor, — hey ! Wychecornbe ? Upon my word, Daly 
shows ingenuity. Look for the Hope, in that list. Bunting, — 
you will find the English names printed first, in the end of the 
book.” 

as 


446 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ ‘ The Hope, or V Esperance,' ” read the signal-officer ; 
“ ‘ 36, Zee cajyitang dee frigate dee Courtraii.' ” 

“ A single-decked ship after all ! This affair is as bad as 

the d d nullus, ashore, there. I’ll not be beaten in 

learning, however, by any Frenchman who ever floated. 
Go below. Locker, and desire Doctor Magrath to step up here, 
if he is not occupied with the wounded. He knows more 
Latin than any man in the ship.” 

“ Yes, Sir Jarvy, but this is French, you knows, your 
honour, and is’nt as Latin, at all. I expects she’ll turn out 
to have some name as no modest person wishes to use, and we 
shall have to halter it.” 

“ Ay, he’s catted his anchor, sure enough ; if the figure he 
not Hope, it must be Faith, or Charity.” 

“ No fear of them. Sir Jarvy ; the French has no faith, 
nor no charity, no, nor no bowels, as any poor fellow knows as 
has ever been wrecked on their coast, as once happened to me, 
when a b’y. I looks upon ’em as no better than so many 
heath eners, and perhaps that’s the name of the ship. I’ve 
seed heatheners, a hundred times, Sir Jarvy, in that sort of 
toggery.” 

“ What, man, did you ever see a heathen with an anchor ? 
— one that will w'eigh three hundred, if it will weigh a 
pound ?” 

“ Perhaps not, your honour, with a downright hanchor, 
but with sum’mat like a killog. But, that’s no hanchor, a’ter 
all, but only a kedge, catted hanchor-fashion, sir.” 

“ Here comes Magrath, to help us out of the difficulty ; and 
we’ll propound the matter to him.” 

The vice-admiral now explained the whole affair to the 
surgeon, frankly admitting that the classics of the cabin were 
at fault, and throwing himself on the gun-room for assistance. 
Magrath was not a little amused, as he listened, for this was 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


447 


one of his triumphs, and he chuckled not a little at the dilem- 
ma of his superiors. 

“ Well, Sir Jairvis,” he answered, “ ye might do warse 
than call a council o’ war on the matter ; hut if it’s the name 
ye’ll be wanting, I can help ye to that, without the aids of 
symbols, and signs, and hyeroglyphics of any sort. As we 
crossed the vessel’s wake, a couple of hours since, I read it on 
her stern, in letters of gold. It’s la Victoire, or the Victory ; 
a most unfortunate cognomen for an unlucky ship. She’s a 
F rench victory, however, ye’ll remember, gentlemen !” 

“ That must be a mistake, Magrath ; for Daly has shown 
an anchor, yonder ; and Victory carries no anchor.” 

“ It’s hard to say, veece-admiral, one man’s victory being 
another man’s defeat. As for Mr. Daly’s image, it’s just 
an Irish goddess ; and allowances must be made for the 
country.” 

Sir Gervaise laughed, invited the gentlemen to help de- 
molish the breakfast, and sent orders on deck to hoist the 
answering flag. At a later day, Daly, when called on for an 
explanation, asserted that the armour and helmet belonged to 
Victory, as a matter of course ; though he admitted that he 
had at first forgotten the anchor ; “ but, when I did run it up, 
they read it aboard the ould Planter, as if it had been just so 
much primmer. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


“There’s beauty in the deep : — 

The wave is bluer than the sky ; 

And, though the light shines bright on high, 

More softly do the sea-gems glow, 

That sparkle in the depths below ; 

The rainbow’s tints are only made 
When on the waters they are laid. 

And sun and moon most sweetly shine 
Upon the ocean’s level brine. 

There’s beauty in the deep.” 

Brainard. 

As Daly was the recognised jester of the fleet, his extraor- 
dinary attempt to announce his vessel’s name was received as 
a characteristic joke, and it served to laugh at until something 
better offered. Under the actual circumstances of the two 
squadrons, however, it was soon temporarily forgotten in graver 
things, for few believed the collision that had already taken 
place was to satisfy a man of the known temperament of the 
commander-in-chief. As the junction of the rear division was 
the only thing wanting to bring on a general engagement, as 
soon as the weather should moderate a little, every ship had 
careful look-outs aloft, sweeping the horizon constantly with 
glasses, more particularly towards the east and north-east. The 
gale broke about noon, though the wind still continued fresh 
from the same quarter as before. The sea began to go down, 
however, and at eight bells material changes had occurred in 
the situations of both fleets. Some of these it may be neces- 
sary to mention. 

The ship of the French admiral, le Foudroyant, and le 
Scipion, had been received, as it might be, in the arms of 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


449 


I 

their own fleet in the manner already mentioned ; and from 
this moment, the movement of the whole force was, in a 
measure, regulated by that of these two crippled vessels. The 
former ship, by means of her lower sails, might have continued 
to keep her station in the line, so long as the gale lasted ; but 
the latter unavoidably fell off, compelling her consorts to keep 
near, or to abandon her to her fate. M. de Vervillin pre- 
ferred the latter course. The consequences were, that, by the 
time the sun was in the zenith, his line, a good deal extended, 
still, and far from regular, was quite three leagues to leeward 
of that of the English. Nor was this all : at that important 
turn in the day. Sir Gervaise Oakes was enabled to make sail 
* on all his ships, setting the fore and mizzen-top-sails close- 
reefed ; while la Victoire, a fast vessel, was enabled to keep in 
company by carrying whole courses. The French could not 
imitate this, inasmuch as one of their crippled vessels had 
nothing standing but a foremast. Sir Gervaise had ascertained, 
before the distance became too great for such observations, that 
the enemy was getting ready to send up new' top-masts, and 
the other necessary spars on board the admiral, as well as 
jury lower-masts in le Scipion ; though the sea would not yet 
permit any very positive demonstrations to be made tow^ards 
such an improvement. He laid his own plans for the approach- 
ing night accordingly ; determining not to worry his people, or 
notify the enemy of his intentions, by attempting any similar 
! improvement in the immediate condition of his prize. 

' About noon, each ship’s number w'as made in succession, 

and the question was put if she had sustained any material 
injury in the late conflict. The answers were satisfactory in 
I general, though one or tw'o of the vessels made such replies as 
„ induced the commander-in-chief to resort to a still more direct 
I mode of ascertaining the real condition of his fleet. In order 
to eflect this important object. Sir Gervaise waited two hours 


450 


THE 


WO ADMIRALS. 


longer, for the double purpose of letting all the messes ge< 
through with their dinners, and to permit the wind to abate 
and the sea to fall, as both were now fast doing. At the 
expiration of that time, however, he appeared on the poop, 
summoning Bunting to his customary duty. 

At 2 p. M. it blew a whole top-sail breeze, as it is called ; 
but the sea being still high, and the ships close-hauled, the 
vice-admiral did not see fit to order any more sail. Perhaps he 
was also influenced by a desire not to increase his distance from 
the enemy, it being a part of his plan to keep M. de Vervillin 
in plain sight so long as the day continued, in order that he 
might have a tolerable idea of the position of his fleet, during 
the hours of darkness. His present intention was to cause his 
vessels to pass before him in review, as a general orders his 
battalions to march past a station occupied by himself and 
staff, with a view to judge by his own eye of their steadiness 
and appearance. Vice-Admiral Oakes was the only officer in 
the British navy who ever resorted to this practice ; but he did 
many things of which other men never dreamed, and, among 
the rest, he did not hesitate to attack double his force, when 
an occasion offered, as has just been seen. The officers of the 
fleet called these characteristic reviews “ Sir Jarvy’s field-days,” 
finding a malicious pleasure in comparing any thing out of the 
common nautical track, to some usage of the soldiers. 

Bunting got his orders, notwithstanding the jokes of the 
fleet ; and the necessary signals were made and the answers 
given. Captain Greenly then received his verbal instructions, 
when the commander-in-chief went below, to prepare him- 
self for the approaching scene. When Sir Gervaise re-ap- 
peared on the poop, he was in full uniform, wearing the 
star of the Bath, as was usual with him on all solemn official 
occasions. Atwood and Bunting v^ere at his side, while the 
Bowlderos, in their rich shore-liveries, formed a group at hand. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


451 


Captain Greenly and his first lieutenant joined the party as 
soon as their duty with the ship was over. On the opposite 
side of the poop, the whole of the marines off guard were 
drawn up in triple lines, with their officers at their head. The 
ship herself had hauled up her main-sail, hauled down all 
her stay-sails, and lay with her main-top-sail braced sharp 
aback, with orders to the quarter-master to keep her little 
off the wind ; the object being to leave a little way through 
the water, in order to prolong the expected interviews. With 
these preparations the commander-in-chief awaited the suc- 
cessive approach of his ships, the sun, for the first time in 
twenty-four hours, making his appearance in a flood of brilliant 
summer-light, as if purposely to grace the ceremony. 

The first ship that drew near the Plantagenet was the 
Carnatic, as a matter of course, she being the next in the line. 
This vessel, remarkable, as the commander-in-chief had 
observed, for never being out of the way, was not long in 
closing, though as she luffed up on the admiral’s weather- 
quarter, to pass to windward, she let go all her top-sail bow- 
lines, so as to deaden her way, making a sort of half-board. 
This simple evolution, as she righted her helm, brought 
her about fifty yards to windward of the Plantagenet, 
past which ship she surged slowly but steadily, the weather 
now permitting a conversation to be held at that distance, 
and by means of trumpets, with little or no effort of the 
voice. 

Most of the officers of the Carnatic were on her poop, as 
she came sweeping up heavily, casting her shadow on the 
Plantagenet’s decks. Captain Parker himself was standing 
near the ridge-ropes, his head uncovered, and the grey hairs 
floating in the breeze. The countenance of this simple-minded 
veteran was a little anxious, for, had he feared the enemy a 
tenth part as much as he stood in awe of his commanding 


452 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


officer, he would have been totally unfit for his station Now 
he glanced upward at his sails, to see that all was right ; then, 
as he drew nearer, fathom by fathom as it might be, he 
anxiously endeavoured to read the expression of the vice-admi- 
ral’s face. 

“ How do ‘you do. Captain Parker ?” commenced Sir Ger- 
vaise, with true trumpet formality, making the customary 
salutation. 

“ How is Sir Gervaise Oakes to-day ? I hope untouched 
in the late affair with the enemy ?” 

“ Q/uite well, I thank you, sir. Has the Carnatic received 
any serious injury in the battle ?” 

“ None to mention. Sir Gervaise. A rough scrape of the 
foremast ; but not enough to alarm us, now the weather has 
moderated ; a little rigging cut, and a couple of raps in the 
hull.” 

“ Have your people suffered, sir ?” 

“ Two killed and seven wounded. Sir Gervaise. Good lads, 
most of ’em ; but enough like ’em remain.” 

“ I understand, then. Captain Parker, that you report the 
Carnatic fit for any service?” 

“ As much so as my poor abilities enable me to make her. 
Sir Gervaise Oakes,” answered the other, a little alarmed at 
the formality and precision of the question. “ Meet her with 
the helm — meet her with the helm.” 

All this passed while the Carnatic was making her half- 
board, and, the helm being righted, she now slowly and ma- 
jestically fell off with her broadside to the admiral, gathering 
way as her canvass began to draw again. At this instant, 
when the yard-arms of the two ships were about a hundred 
feet asunder, and just as the Carnatic drew up fairly abeam. 
Sir Gervaise Oakes raised his hat, stepped quickly to the side 
of the poop, waved his hand for silence, and spoke with a 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


453 


distinctness that rendered his words audible to all in both 
vessels. 

“ Captain Parker,” he said, “ I wish, publicly, to thank 
you for your noble conduct this day. I have always said a 
surer support could never follow a commander-in-chief into 
battle ; you have more than proved my opinion to be true. I 
wish, publicly, to thank you, sir.” 

“ Sir Gervaise — I cannot express — God bless you. Sir Ger- 
vaise !” 

“ I have but one fault to find with you, sir, and that is 
easily pardoned.” 

“ I’m sure I hope so, sir.” 

“ You handled your ship so rapidly and so surely, that we 
had hardly time to get out of the way of your guns !” 

Old Parker could not now have answered had his life de- 
pended on it ; but he bowed, and dashed a hand across his 
eyes. There was but a moment to say any more. 

“ If His Majesty’s sword be not laid on your shoulder for 
this day’s w^ork, sir, it shall be no fault of mine,” added Sir 
Gervaise, waving his hat in adieu. 

While this dialogue lasted, so profound was the stillness in 
the two ships, that the wash of the water under the bows of 
the Carnatic, was the only sound to interfere with Sir Ger- 
vaise’s clarion voice ; but the instant he ceased to speak, the 
crews of both vessels rose as one man, and cheered. The 
officers joined heartily, and to complete the compliment, the 
commander-in-chief ordered his own marines to present arms 
to the passing vessel. Then it was that, every sail drawing, 
again the Carnatic took a sudden start, and shot nearly her 
length ahead, on the summit of a sea. In half a minute more, 
she was ahead of the Plantagenet’s flying-jib-boom-end, steer- 
ing a little free, so as not to throw the admiral to leeward. 

The Carnatic was scarcely out of the way, before the 


454 


the two admirals. 


Achilles was ready to take her place. This ship, having more 
room, had easily luffed to windward of the Plantagenet, simply 
letting go her bowlines, as her bows doubled on the admiral’s 
stern, in order to check her way. 

“ How do you do to-day. Sir Gervaise ?” called out Lord 
Morganic, without waiting for the commander-iii-chief’s hail — 
“ allow me to congratulate you, sir, on the exploits of this 
glorious day !” 

“ I thank you, my lord, and wish to say I am satisfied with 
the behaviour of your ship. You’ve all done well, and I desire 
to thank you all. Is the Achilles injured ?” 

“ Nothing to speak of, sir. A little rigging gone, and here 
and there a stick.” 

“ Have you lost any men, my lord ? I desire particularly 
to know the condition of each ship.” 

“ Some eight or ten poor fellows, I believe, Sir Gervaise; 
but we are ready to engage this instant.” 

“It is well, my lord ; steady your bowlines, and make 
room for the Thunderer.” 

Morganic gave the order, but as his ship drew ahead he 
called out in a pertinacious way, — “ I hope, Sir Gervaise, you 
don’t mean to give that other lame duck up. I’ve got my first 
lieutenant on board one of ’em, and confess to a desire to put 
the second on board another.” 

“ Ay — ay — Morganic, ive knock down the birds, and you 
bag ’em. I’ll give you more sport in the same way, before 
I’ve done with ye.” 

This little concession, even Sir Gervaise Oakes, a man not 
accustomed to trifle in matters of duty, saw fit to make to the 
other’s rank ; and the Achilles withdrew from before the flag- 
ship, as the curtain is drawn from before the scene. 

“ I do believe, Greenleaf,” observed Lord Morganic to his 
surgeon, one of his indulged favourites ; “ that Sir Jarvy is a 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


455 


little jealous of us, because Daly got into the prize before he 
could send one of his own boats aboard of her. ’Twill tell 
well in the gazette, too, will it not ? — ‘ The French ship was 
taken possession of, and brought off, by the Achilles, Captain 
the Earl of Morganic !’ * I hope the old fellow will have the 
decency to give us our due. I rather think it wa^, our last 
broadside that brought the colours down ?” 

A suitable answer was returned, but as the ship is drawing 
ahead, we cannot follow her to relate it. The vessel that 
approached the third, was the Thunderer, Captain Foley. 
This was one of the ships that had received the fire of the 
three leading French vessels, after they had brought the wind 
abeam, and being the leading vessel of the English rear, she 
had suffered more than any other of the British squadron. 
The fact was apparent, as she approached, by the manner in 
which her rigging was knotted, and the attention that had been 
paid to her spars. Even as she closed, the men were on the 
yard bending a new main-course, the old one having been hit 
on the bolt-rope, and torn nearly from the spar. There were 
also several plugs on her lee-side to mark the spots where the 
French guns had told. 

The usual greetings passed between the vice-admiral and 
his captain, and the former put his questions. 

“ We have not been quite exchanging salutes. Sir Gervaise,” 
answered Captain Foley ; “ but the ship is ready for service 
again. Should the wind moderate a little, I think every thing 
would stand to carry sail hardT 

“ I’m glad to hear it, sir — rejoiced to hear it, sir. I feared 
more for you, than for any other vessel. I hope you’ve not 
suffered materially in your crew ?” 

“ Nine killed. Sir Gervaise ; and the surgeon tells me 
sixteen wounded.” 

“ That proves you’ve not been in port, Foley ! Well, I dare 


456 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


say, could the truth be known, it would he found that M. de 
Vervillin’s vessels bear your marks, in revenge. Adieu — adieu 
— God bless you,” 

The Thunderer glided ahead, making room for the Blen- 
heim, Captain Sterling. This was one of your serviceable 
ships, without any show or style about her ; but a vessel that 
was always ready to give and take. Her commander was a 
regular sea-dog, a little addicted to hard and outlandish oaths, 
a great consumer of tobacco and brandy ; but who had the 
discrimination never to swear in the presence of the com- 
mander-in-chief, although he had been known to do so in a 
church ; or to drink more than he could well carry, when he 
was in presence of an enemy or a gale of wind. He was too 
firm a man, and too good a seaman, to use the bottle as a 
refuge ; it was the companion of his ease and pleasure, and to 
confess the truth, he then treated it with an affectionate benev- 
olence, that rendered it exceedingly difficult for others not to 
entertain some of his own partiality for it. In a word. Captain 
Sterling was a sailor of the “ old school for there was an “ old 
school” in manners, habits, opinions, philosophy, morals, and 
reason, a century since, precisely as there is to-day, and prob- 
ably will be, a century hence. 

The Blenheim made a good report, not having sustained 
any serious injury whatever ; nor had she a man hurt. The 
captain reported his ship as fit for service as she was the hour 
she lifted her anchor. 

“ So much the better. Sterling — so much the better. You 
shall take the edge off the next affair, by way of giving you 
another chance. I rely on the Blenheim, and on her cap- 
tain.” 

“ I thank you, sir,” returned Sterling, as his ship moved 
on ; “ by the way. Sir Gervaise, would it not be fair-play to 
rummage the prize’s lockers before she gets into the hands 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


457 


of the custom-house ? Out here on the high seas, there can 
be no smuggling in that : there must be good claret aboard 
her.” 

“ There would be ‘ plunder of a prize,’ Sterling,” said the 
vice-admiral, laughing, for he knew that the question was put 
more as a joke than a serious proposition ; “ and that is death, 
without benefit of clergy. Move on ; here is Goodfellow close 
upon your heels.” 

The last ship in the English line was the Warspite, Cap- 
tain Goodfellow, an officer remarkable in the service at that 
day, for a “ religious turn,” as it w'as called. As is usually the 
case with men of this stamp. Captain Goodfellow was quiet, 
thoughtful, and attentive to his duty. There was less of the 
real tar in him, perhaps, than in some of his companions ; but 
his ship was in good order, always did her duty, and was re- 
markably attentive to signals ; a circumstance that rendered 
her commander a marked favourite with the vice-admiral 
After the usual questions were put and answered. Sir Gervaise 
informed Goodfellow that he intended to change the order of 
sailing so as to bring him near the van. 

“ We will give old Parker a breathing spell, Goodfellow,” 
added the commander-in-chief, “ and you will be my second 
astern. I must go ahead of you all, or you’ll be running down 
on the Frenchman without orders ; pretending you can’t see 
the signals, in the smoke.” 

The Warspite drove ahead, and the Plantagenet was now 
left to receive the prize and the Druid ; the Chloe, Driver, and 
Active, not being included in the signal. Daly had been 
gradually eating the other ships out of the wind, as has been 
mentioned already, and when the order was given to pass 
within hail, he grumbled not a little at the necessity of losing 
so much of his vantage-ground. Nevertheless, it would not 
do to joke with the commander-in-chief in a matter of this 

8y 


458 


THE TWO admirals. 


sort, ana he was fain to haul up his courses, and wait for the 
moment when he might close. By the time the Warspite was 
out of the way, his ship had drifted down so near the admiral, 
that he had nothing to do but to haul aboard his tacks again, 
and pass as near as was at all desirable. When quite near, he 
hauled up his mainsail, by order of the vice-admiral. 

“ Are you much in w'ant of any thing, Mr. Daly ?” de- 
manded Sir Gervaise, as soon as the lieutenant appeared for- 
ward to meet his hail. “The sea is going down so fast, that 
we might now send you some boats.” 

“ Many thanks, Sir Gervaise ; I want to get rid of a hun- 
dred or two Frenchmen, and to have a hundred Englishmen 
in their places. We are but twenty-one of the king’s subjects 
here, all told.” 

“ Captain Blewet is ordered to keep company with you, 
sir ; and as soon as it is dark, I intend to send you into Ply- 
mouth under the frigate’s convoy. Is she a nice ship, hey I 
Daly ?” 

“ Why, Sir Gervaise, she’s like a piece of broken crockery, 
just now, and one can’t tell all her merits. She’s not a bad 
goer, and weatherly, I think, all will call her. But she’s 
thundering French, inside.” 

“ We’ll make her English in due time, sir. How are the 
leaks ? do the pumps work freely ?” 

“ Deuce the Take has she, Sir Gervaise, and the pumps 
suck like a nine months’ babby. And if they didn’t we’re 
scarce the boys to find out the contrary, being but nineteen 
working hands.” 

“Very well, Daly; you can haul aboard your main-tack, 
now ; remember, you’re to go into Plymouth, as soon as it is 
dark. If you see any thing of Admiral Bluewater, tell him I 
rely on his support, and only wait for his appearance to finish 
Monsieur de Vervillin’s job.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


459 


“Til do all that, with hearty good will, sir. Pray, Sir 
Gervaise,” added Daly, grinning, on the poop of the prize, 
whither he had got by this time, having walked aft, as his ship 
went ahead, “ how do you like French signals? For want of 
a better, we were driven to the classics 1” 

“ Ay, you’d be bothered to explain all your own flags, I 
fancy. The name of the ship is the Victory, I am told ; why 
did you put her in armour, and whip a kedge up against the 
poor woman ?” 

“ It’s according to the books, Sir Gervaise. Every word 
of it out of Cicero, and Cordairy, and Cornelius Nepos, and 
those sort of fellows. Oh ! I went to school, sir, before I went 
to sea, as you say yourself, sometimes. Sir Gervaise ; and litera- 
ture is the same in Ireland, as it is all over the world. Victory 
needs armour, sir, in order to be victorious, and the anchor is 
to show that she doesn’t belong to ‘ the cut and run’ family. 
I am as sure that all was right, as I ever was of my moods 
and tenses.” 

“ Very well, Daly,” answered Sir Gervaise, laughing — 
“ My lords shall know your merits in that way, and it may 
get you named a professor — keep your lufT, or you’ll be down 
on our sprit-sail-yard ; — remember and follow the Druid.” 

Here the gentlemen waved their hands in adieu as usual, 
and la Victoire, clipped as she was of her wings, drew slowly 
past. The Druid succeeded, and Sir Gervaise simply gave 
Blewet his orders to see the prize into port, and to look after 
his own fore-mast. This ended the field day ; the frigate 
luffing up to windward of the line again, leaving the Plantage- 
net in its rear. A few minutes later, the latter ship filled and 
stood after her consorts. 

The vice-admiral having now ascertained, in the most 
direct manner, the actual condition of his fleet, had data on 
which to form his plans for the future. But for the letter from 


460 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Bluewater, he would have been perfectly happy ; the success 
of the day having infused a spirit into the different vessels, 
that, of itself, was a pledge of more important results. Still 
he determined to act as if that letter had never been written, 
finding it impossible to believe that one who had so long been 
true, could really fail him in the hour of need. “ I know his 
heart better than he knows it himself,” he caught himself 
mentally exclaiming, “ and before either of us is a day older, 
this will I prove to him, to his confusion and my triumph.” 
He had several short and broken conversations with Wycherly 
in the course of the afternoon, with a view to ascertain, if 
possible, the real frame of mind in which his friend had written, 
but without success, the young man frankly admitting that, 
owing to a confusion of thought that he modestly attributed 
to himself, but which Sir Gervaise well knew ought in justice 
to be imputed to Bluewater, he had not been able to bring 
away with him any very clear notions of the rear-admiral’s 
intentions. 

In the mean while, the elements were beginning to exhibit 
another of their changeful humours. A gale in summer is 
seldom of long duration, and twenty-four hours would seem 
to be the period which nature had assigned to this. The 
weather had moderated materially by the time the review 
had taken place, and five hours later, not only had the sea 
subsided to a very reasonable swell, but the wind had hauled 
several points ; coming out a fresh top-gallant breeze at north- 
west. The French fleet wore soon after, standing about north- 
east-by-north, on an easy bowline. They had been active in 
repairing damages, and the admiral was all a-tanto again, 
with every thing set that the other ships carried. The plight 
of le Scipion was not so easily remedied, though even she had 
two jury-masts rigged, assistance having l^een sent from the 
other vessels as soon as boats could safely pass. As the suri 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


461 


hung in the western sky, wanting about an hour of disappear- 
ing from one of the long summer days of that high latitude, 
this ship set a mizzen-top-sail in the place of a main, and a 
fore-top-gallant-sail in lieu of a mizzen-top-sail. Thus equipped, 
she was enabled to keep company with her consorts, all of 
which were under easy canvass, waiting for the night to cover 
their movements. 

Sir Gervaise Oakes had made the signal for his fleet to 
tack in succession, from the rear to the van, about an hour 
before le Scipion obtained this additional sail. The order was 
executed with great readiness, and, as the ships had been 
looking up as high as west-south-west before, when they got 
round, and headed north-north-east, their line of sailing was 
still quite a league to windward of that of the enemy. As 
each vessel filled on the larboard tack, she shortened sail to 
allow the ships astern to keep away, and close to her station. 
It is scarcely necessarj" to say, that this change again brought 
the Plantagenet to the head of the line, with the Warspite, 
however, instead of the Carnatic, for her second astern ; the 
latter vessel being quite in the rear. 

It was a glorious afternoon, and there was every promise 
of as fine a night. Still, as there were but about six hours 
of positive darkness at that season of the year, and the moon 
would rise at midnight, the vice-admiral knew he had no 
time to lose, if he would effect any thing under the cover 
of obscurity. Reefs were no longer used, though all the 
ships were under short canvass, in order to accommodate 
their movements to those of the prize. The latter, however, 
was now in tow of the Druid, and, as this frigate carried her 
top-gallant-sails, aided by her own courses, la Victoire was ena- 
bled not only to keep up with the fleet, then under whole top- 
sails, but to maintain her weatherly position. Such was the 

state of things just as the sun dipped, the enemy being on 

39 * 


462 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


the lee bow, distant one and a half leagues, when the Planta- 
genet showed a signal for the whole fleet to heave to, with the 
main-top-sails to the masts. This command was scarcely ex- 
ecuted, when the officers on deck were surprised to hear a 
boatswain’s mate piping away the crew of the vice-admiral’s 
barge, or that of the boat which was appropriated to the par- 
ticular service of the commander-in-chief. 

“ Did I hear aright. Sir Gervaise ?” inquired Greenly, with 
curiosity and interest ; “is it your wish to have your barge 
manned, sir ?” 

“ You heard perfectly right. Greenly ; and, if disposed for 
a row this fine evening, I shall ask the favour of your com- 
pany. Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, as you are an idler here, 
I have a flag-officer’s right to press you into my service. 
By the way. Greenly, I have made out and signed an order to 
this gentleman to report himself to you, as attached to my 
family, as the soldiers call it ; as soon as Atwood has copied it, 
it will be handed to him, when I beg you will consider him as 
my first aid.” 

To this no one could object, and Wycherly made a bow of 
acknowledgment. At that instant the barge was seen swing- 
ing off over the ship’s waist, and, at the next, the yard tackles 
were heard overhauling themselves. The splash of the boat 
in the water followed. The crew was in her, with oars on 
end, and poised boat-hooks, in another minute. The guard 
presented, the boatswain piped over, the drum rolled, and 
Wycherly jumped to the gangway and w^as out of sight quick 
as thought. Greenly and Sir Gervaise followed, when the 
boat shoved off. 

Although the seas had greatly subsided, and their combs 
were no longer dangerous, the Atlantic was far from being as 
quiet as a lake in a summer eventide. At the very first dash 
of the oars the barge rose on a long, heavy swell that buoyed 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


463 


her up like a bubble, and as the water glided from under her 
again, it seemed as if she was about to sink into some cavern 
of the ocean. Few things give more vivid impressions of 
helplessness than boats thus tossed by the waters when not in 
their raging humours ; for one is apt to expect better treat- 
ment than thus to be made the plaything of the element. All, 
however, who have ever floated on even the most quiet ocean, 
must have experienced more or less of this helpless dependence, 
the stoutest boat, impelled by the lustiest crews, appearing half 
the time like a feather floating in capricious currents of the air. 

The occupants of the barge, however, were too familiar 
with their situation to think much of these matters ; and, as 
soon as Sir Gervaise assented to Wycherly’s offer to take the 
tiller, he glanced upward, with a critical eye, in order to scan 
the Plantagenet’s appearance. 

“ That fellow, Morganic, has got a better excuse for his 
xebec-rig than I had supposed. Greenly,” he said, after a 
minute of observation. “ Your fore-top-mast is at least six 
inches too far forward, and I beg you will have it stayed aft 
to-morrow morning, if the weather permit. None of your 
Mediterranean craft for me, in the narrow seas.” 

“ Very well. Sir Gervaise ; the spar shall be righted in the 
morning watch,” quietly returned the captain. 

“ Now, there’s Goodfellow, half-parson as he is ; the man 
contrives to keep his sticks more upright than any captain in 
the fleet. You never see a spar half an inch out of its place, 
on board the Warspite.” 

“ That is because her captain trims every thing by his own 
life, sir,” rejoined Greenly, smiling. “ Were we half as good 
as he is, in other matters, we might be better than we are in 
seamanship.” 

“1 do not think religion hurts a sailor. Greenly — no, not in 
the least. That is to say, when he don’t wedge his masts too 


464 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


tight, but leaves play enough for all weathers. There is no 
cant in Goodfellow.” 

“ Not the least of it, sir, and that it is which makes him 
so great a favourite. The chaplain of the Warspite is of some 
use ; hut one might as well have a bow^sprit rigged out of a 
cabin- window, as have our chap.’' 

“ Why, we never bury a man. Greenly, without putting 
him into the water as a Christian should be,” returned Sir 
(xervaise, with the simplicity of a true believer of the decency 
school. “ I hate to see a seaman tossed in the ocean like a bag 
of old clothes.” 

“We get along with that part of the duty pretty well ; but 
before a man is dead, the parson is of opinion that he belongs 
altogether to the doctor.” 

“ I’d bet a hundred guineas, Magrath has had some in- 
fluence over him, in this matter— give the Blenheim a wider 
berth. Sir Wycherly, I wish to see how she looks aloft — he’s a 
d— — d fellow, that Magrath,” — no one swore in Sir Gervaise’s 
boat but himself, when the vice-admiral’s flag was flying in 
her bows ; — “ and he’s just the sort of man to put such a 
notion into the chaplain’s head.” 

“ Why, there, I believe you’re more than half right. Sir 
Gervaise ; I overheard a conversation between them one dark 
night, when they were propping the mizzen-mast under the 
break of the poop, and the surgeon did maintain a theory very 
like that you mention, sir.” 

“ Ah ! — he did, did he ? It’s just like the Scotch rogue, 
who wanted to persuade me that your poor uncle. Sir Wych- 
erly, ought nort to have been blooded, in as clear a case of 
apoplexy as ever was met with.” 

“ Well, I didn’t think he could have carried his impudence 
as far as that,” observed Greenly, whose medical knowledge 
was about on a par with that of Sir Gervaise. “ I didn’t 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


465 


think even a doctor would dare to hold such a doctrine ! As 
for the chaplain, to him he laid down the principle that reli- 
gion and medicine never worked well together. He said religion 
was an ‘ alterative,' and would neutralize a salt as quick as fire.” 

” He’s a great vagabond, that Magrath, when he gets hold 
of a young hand, sir ; and I wish with all my heart the 
Pretender had him, with two or three pounds of his favourite 
medicines with him — I think, between the two, England might 
reap some advantage, Greenly. — Now, to my notion, Wyche- 
combe, the Blenheim would make better weather, if her masts 
were shortened at least two feet.” 

“ Perhaps she might. Sir Gervaise ; hut would she be as 
certain a ship, in coming into action in light winds and at 
critical moments ?” 

“ Urnph I It’s time for us old fellows to look about us, 
Greenly, when the hoys begin to reason on a line of battle ! 
Don’t blush, Wychecombe ; don’t blush. Your remark was 
sensible, and shows reflection. No country can ever have a 
powerful marine, or, one likely to produce much influence in 
her wars, that does not pay rigid attention to the tactics of 
fleets. Your frigate actions and sailing of single ships, are 
well enough as drill ; but the great practice must be in 
squadron. Ten heavy ships, in good fleet discipline, and kept 
at sea, will do more than a hundred single cruisers, in estab- 
lishing and maintaining discipline ; and it is only by using 
vessels together, that we find out what both ships and men 
can do. Now, we owe the success of this day, to our practice 
of sailing in close order, and in knowing how to keep our 
stations ; else would six ships never have been able to carry 
away the palm of victory from twelve — palm ! — Ay, that’s the 
very word. Greenly, I was trying to think of this morning 
Daly’s paddy should have had a palm-branch in its hand, as 
an emblem of victory.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


“ Ho that has sailed upon the dark-blue sea, 

Has viewed at times, I ween, a full fair sight ; 

When the fresh breeze is fair as breeze may be. 

The white sail set, the gallant frigate tight ; 

Mast, spires and strand, retiring to the sight, 

The glorious main expanding o’er the bow. 

The convoy spread like wild swans in their flight, 

The dullest sailer waring bravely now, 

So gaily curl the waves before each dashing prow.” 

Byron. 

As Sir Gervaise Oakes’ active mind was liable to such 
sudden mutations of thought as that described in the close of 
the last chapter, Greenly neither smiled, nor dwelt on the 
subject at all ; he simply pointed out to his superior the 
fact, that they were now abreast of the Thunderer, and 
desired to know whether it was his pleasure to proceed any 
further. 

“To the Carnatic, Greenly, if Sir Wycherly will have the 
goodness to shape his course thither. I have a word to say to 
my friend Parker, before we sleep to-night. Give us room, 
however, to look at Morganic’s fancies, for I never pass his 
ship without learning something new. Lord Morganic’s 
vessel is a good school for us old fellows to attend — hey I 
Greenly ?” 

“ The Achilles is certainly a model vessel in some re- 
spects, Sir Gervaise, though I flatter myself the Plantagenets 
have no great occasion to imitate her, in order to gain a char- 
acter.” 

“ You imitate Morganic in order to know how to keep a 


T II R TWO admirals. 


467 


ship in order I — Poh ! let Morganic come to school to you. 
Yet the fellow is not bashful in battle neither ; keeps his sta« 
tion well, and makes himself both heard and felt. Ah ! there 
he is, flourishing his hat on the poop, and wondering what the 
deuce Sir Jarvy’s after, now ! Sheer in, Wychecombe, and let 
us hear what he has to say.” 

“ Good evening. Sir Gervaise,” called out the earl, as usual 
taking the initiative in the discourse ; “ I was in hopes when 
I saw your flag in the boat, that you were going to do me the 
favour to open a bottle of claret, and to taste some fruit, I have 
still standing on the table.” 

“ I thank you, my lord, but business before pleasure. We 
have not been idle to-day, though to-morrow shall be still more 
busy. How does the Achilles steer, now her foremast is in its 
place ?” 

“ Yaws like a fellow with his grog aboard. Sir Gervaise, 
on my honour ! We shall never do any thing with her, until 
you consent to let us stay her spars, in our own fashion. Do 
you intend to send me Daly back, or am I to play first lieuten- 
ant myself, admiral ?” 

“ Daly’s shipped for the cruise, and you must do as well as 
you can without him. If you find yourself without a second 
astern, in the course of the night, do not fancy she has gone 
to the bottom. Keep good look-outs, and pay attention to 
signals.” 

As Sir Gervaise waved his hand, the young noble did not 
venture to reply, much less to ask a question, though there was 
not a little speculation on the poop of the Achilles, concerning 
the meaning of his words. The boat moved on, and five 
minutes later Sir Gervaise was on the quarter-deck of the 
Carnatic. 

Parker received the commander-in-chief, hat in hand, with 
a solicitude and anxiety that were constitutional, perhaps, and 


468 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


which no consciousness of deserving could entirely appease. 
Habit, however, had its share in it, since, accustomed to defer 
to rank from boyhood and the architect of his own “ little 
fortune,” he had ever attached more importance to the com- 
mendation of his superior, than was usual with those who had 
other props to lean on than their own services. As soon as 
the honours of the quarter-deck had been duly paid — for these 
Sir Gervaise never neglected himself, nor allowed others to 
neglect — the vice-admiral intimated to Captain Parker a de- 
sire to see him in his cabin, requesting Greenly and Wycherly 
to accompany them below. 

“Upon my word, Parker,” commenced Sir Gervaise, look- 
ing around him at the air of singular domestic comfort that 
the after-cabin of the ship presented, “you have the knack of 
taking a house to sea with you, that no other captain of the 
fleet possesses ! No finery, no Morganics, hut a plain, whole- 
some, domestic look, that might make a man believe he was 
in his father’s house. I would give a thousand pounds if my 
vagabonds could give the cabin of the Plantagenet such a 
Bowldero look, now !” 

“ Less than a hundred, sir, have done the little you see 
here. Mrs. Parker makes it a point to look to those matters, 
herself, and in that lies the whole secret, perhaps. A good 
wife is a great blessing. Sir Gervaise, though you have never 
been able to persuade yourself into the notion, I believe.” 

“ I hardly think, Parker, the wife can do it all. Now 
there’s Stowel, Bluewater’s captain, he is married as well 
as yourself— nay, by George, I’ve heard the old fellow say he 
had as much wife as any man in his majesty’s service — but 
his cabin looks like a cobbler’s barn, and his state-room like a 
soldier’s bunk ! When we were lieutenants together in the 
Eurydice, Parker, your state-room had just the same air of 
comfort about it that this cabin has at this instant. No — no 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


469 


—it’s in the grain, man, or it would never show itself, in all 
times and places.” 

“ You forget. Sir Gervaise, that when I had the honour to 
be your messmate in the Eurydice, I was a married man.” 

“ I beg j'^our pardon, my old friend ; so you were, indeed ! 
Why, that was a confounded long time ago, hey ! Parker ?” 

“ It was, truly, sir ; but I was poor, and could not afford 
the extravagances of a single life. I married for the sake of 
economy. Admiral Oakes.” 

“ And love — ” answered Sir Gervaise, laughing. “ I’ll 
W'arrant you. Greenly, that he persuaded Mrs. Parker into that 
notion, whether true or not. I’ll warrant you, he did’nt tell 
her he married for so sneaking a thing as economy ! I should 
like to see your state-room now, Parker.” 

“ Nothing easier. Sir Gervaise,” answered the captain, rising 
and opening the door. “ Here it is, sir, though little worthy 
the attention of the owner of Bowldero.” 

“ A notable place, truly ! — and with a housewife-look 
about it that must certainly remind you of Mrs. Parker — 
unless, indeed, that picture at the foot of your cot puts other 
notions into your head ! What young hussy have you got 
there, my old Eurydice ? — Hey ! Parker ?” 

“ That is a picture of my faithful wife. Sir Gervaise ; a 
proper companion, I hope, of my cruise ?” 

“ Hey ! What, that young thing your wife, Parker ! How 
the d — 1 came she to have you ?” 

“ Ah, Sir Gervaise, she is a young thing no longer, but is 
w'ell turned towards sixty. The picture was taken when she 
was a bride, and is all the dearer to me, now that I know the 
original has shared my fortunes so long. I never look at it, 
without remembering, with gratitude, how much she thinks 
of me in our cruises, and how often she prays for our success. 
You are not forgotten, either, sir, in her prayers.” 

40 


470 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ I !” exclaimed the vice-admiral, quite touched at the 
earnest simplicity of the other. “ D’ye hear that, Greenly ? 
I’ll engage, now, this lady is a good woman — a really excel- 
lent creature — just such another as my poor sainted mother 
was, and a blessing to all around her ! Give me your hand, 
Parker ; and when you write next to your wife, tell her from 
me, God bless her ; and say all you think a man ought to say 
on such an occasion. And now to business. Let us seat our- 
selves in this snug domestic-looking cabin of yours, and talk 
our matters over.” 

The two captains and Wycherly followed the vice-admiral 
into the after-cabin, where the latter seated himself on a small 
sofa, while the others took chairs, in respectful attitudes near 
him, no familiarity or jocularity on the part of a naval supe- 
rior ever lessening the distance between him and those who 
hold subordinate commissions — a fact that legislators would 
do well to remember, when graduating rank in a service. As 
soon as all were placed. Sir Gervaise opened his mind. 

“ I have a delicate piece of duty. Captain Parker,” he com- 
menced, “ which I wish intrusted to yourself. You must 
know that we handled the ship which escaped us this morning 
by running down into her own line, pretty roughly, in every 
respect ; besides cutting two of her masts out of her. This 
ship, as you may have seen, has got up jury-masts, already ; 
but they are spars that can only be intended to carry her into 
port. Monsieur de Vervillin is not the man I take him to be, 
if he intends to leave the quarrel between us where it is. 
Still he cannot keep that crippled ship in his fleet, any more 
than we can keep our prize, and I make no doubt he will 
send her ofT to Cherbourg as soon as it is dark ; most prob- 
ably accompanied by one of his corvettes ; or perhaps by a 
frigate.” 

“ Yes, Sir Gervaise,” returned Parker, thoughtfully, as soon 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 47l 

as his superior ceased to speak ; “ what you predict, is quite 
likely to happen.” 

“ It must happen, Parker, the wind blowing directly for 
his haven. Now, you may easily imagine what I want of the 
Carnatic.” 

“ I suppose I understand you, sir ; — and yet, if I might 
presume to express a wish — ” 

“ Speak out, old boy — you’re talking to a friend. I have 
chosen you to serve you, both as one I like, and as the oldest 
captain in the fleet. Whoever catches that ship will hear 
more of it.” 

“ Very true, sir ; but are we not likely to have more work, 
here ? and would it be altogether prudent to send so fine a ship 
as the Carnatic away, when the enemy will count ten to six, 
even if she remain ?” 

“ All this has been thought of ; and I suppose your own 
feeling has been anticipated. You think it will be more hon- 
ourable to your vessel, to keep her place in the line, than to 
take a ship already half beaten.” 

“ That’s it, indeed, Sir Gervaise. I do confess some such 
thoughts were crossing my mind.” 

“ Then see how easy it is to rowse them out of it. I can- 
not fight the French, in this moderate weather, without a re- 
inforcement. When the rear joins, we shall be just ten to ten, 
without you, and with you, should be eleven to ten. Now, I 
confess, I don’t wish the least odds, and shall send away some- 
body ; especially when I feel certain a noble two-decked ship 
will be the reward. If a frigate accompany the crippled fel- 
low, you’ll have your hands full, and a very fair fight ; and 
should you get either, it will be a handsome thing. What say 
you noio, Parker ?” 

“ I begin to think better of the plan. Sir Gervaise, and am 
grateful for the selection. I wish, however, I knew your own 


472 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


precise wishes — I’ve always found it safe to follow theruj 
sir.” 

“ Here they are, then. Get four or live sets of the sharp- 
est eyes you have, and send them aloft to keep a steady look 
on your chap, while there is light enough to be certain of 
him. In a little while, they’ll be able to recognise him in the 
dark ; and by keeping your night-glasses well levelled, he can 
scarcely slip olf, without your missing him. The moment he 
is gone, ware short round, and make the best of your way 
for Cape la Hogue, or Alderney ; you will go three feet to 
his two, and, my life on it, by daylight you’ll have him to 
windward of you, and then you’ll be certain of him. Wait 
for no signals from me, hut be ofii as soon as it is dark. 
When your work is done, make the best of your way to the 
nearest English port, and clap a Scotchman on your shoulder 
to keep the king’s sword from chafing it. They thought 
me fit for knighthood at three-and-twenty, and the deucce 
is in it, Parker, if you are not worthy of it at three-and- 
sixty !” 

“ Ah ! Sir Gervaise, every thing you undertook succeeded ! 
You never yet failed in any expedition.” 

“ That has come from attempting much. My plans have 
often failed ; but as something good has generally followed 
from them, I have the credit of designing to do, exactly what 
I’ve done.” 

Then followed a long, detailed discourse, on the subject 
before them, in which Greenly joined ; the latter making sev- 
eral useful suggestions to the veteran commander of the Car- 
natic. After passing quite an hour in the cabin of Parker, Sir 
Gervaise took his leave and re-entered his barge. It was 
now so dark that small objects could not be distinguished a 
hundred yards, and the piles of ships, as the boat glided past 
them, resembled black hillocks, with clouds floating among 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


473 


their tree-like and waving spars. No captain presumed to hail 
the commander- in-chief, as he rowed down the line, again, 
with the exception of the peer of the realm. He indeed had 
always something to say ; and, as he had been conjecturing 
what could induce the vice-admiral to pay so long a visit to 
the Carnatic, he could not refrain from uttering as much aloud, 
when he heard . the measured stroke of the oars from the re- 
turning barge. 

“ We shall all be jealous of this compliment to Captain 
Parker, Sir Gervaise,” he called out, “ unless your favours are 
occasionally extended to some of us less worthy ones.” 

“ Ay — ay — Morganic, you’ll be remembered in proper time. 
In the mean while, keep your people’s eyes open, so as not to 
lose sight of the French. We shall have something to say 
to them in the morning.” 

“ Spare us a night-action, if possible. Sir Gervaise ! I do 
detest fighting when sleepy ; and I like to see my enemy, too. 
As much as you please in the day-time ; but a quiet night, I 
do beseech you, sir.” 

“ I’ll warrant you, now, if the opera, or Ranelagh, or a 
drum, or a masquerade, were inviting you, Morganic, you’d 
think but little of your pillow I” answered Sir Gervaise, drily; 
“ whatever you do yourself, my lord, don’t let the Achilles get 
asleep on duty ; I may have need of her to-morrow. Give 
way, W^ychecornbe, give way, and let us get home again. 

In fifteen minutes from that instant. Sir Gervaise was 
once more on the poop of the Plantagenet, and the barge in 
its place on deck. Greenly was attending to the duties of his 
ship, and Bunting stood in readiness to circulate such orders as 
it might suit the commander-in-chief to give. 

It was now nine o’clock, and it was not easy to distinguish 
objects on the ocean, even as large as a ship, at the distance 
of half a league. By the aid of the glasses, however, a vigi- 

40 ‘ 


474 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


laiit look-out was kept on the French vessels, which, by this 
time, w'ere quite two leagues distant, drawing more ahead. 
It was necessary to fill away, in order to close with them, and 
a night-signal was made to that effect. The whole British 
line braced forward their main-yards, as it might be, by a 
common impulse, and had there been one there of sufficiently 
acute senses, he might have heard all six of the main-top-sails 
flapping at the same instant. As a matter of course the vessels 
started ahead, and, the order being to follow the vice-admiral 
in a close line ahead, when the Plantagenet edged off, so as to 
bring the wind abeam, each vessel did the same, in succession, 
or as soon as in the commander-in-chief ’s wake, as if guided 
by instinct. About ten minutes later, the Carnatic, to the 
surprise of those W'ho witnessed the manoeuvre in the Achilles, 
wore short round, and set studding-sails on her starboard side, 
steering large. The darkest portion of the horizon being that 
which lay to the eastward, or, in the direction of the continent, 
in twenty minutes the pyramid of her shadowy outline was 
swallowed in the gloom. All this time, la Victoire, with the 
Druid leading and towing, kept upon a bowline ; and an 
hour later, when Sir Gervaise found himself abeam of the 
French line again, and half a league to windward of it, no 
traces were to be seen of the three ships last mentioned. 

“ So far, all goes well, gentlemen,” observed the vice-ad- 
miral to the group around him on the poop ; “and ve will 
now try to count the enemy, to make certain he, too, has no 
stragglers out to pick up waifs. Greenly, try that glass ; it is 
set for the night, and your eyes are the best we have. Be par- 
ticular in looking for the fellow under jury-masts.” 

“ I make out but ten ships in the line. Sir Gervaise,” an- 
swered the captain, after a long examination ; “ of course the 
crippled ship must have gone to leeward. Of her, certainly, 1 
can find no traces.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


475 


“ You will oblige me, Sir Wycherly, by seeing what you 
can make out, in the same way.” 

After a still longer examination than that of the captain, 
Wycherly made the same report, adding that he thought ho 
also missed the frigate that had been nearest le Foudroyant, 
repeating her signals throughout the day. This circumstance 
gratified Sir Gervaise, as he was pleased to find his prognostics 
came true, and he was not sorry to be rid of one of the enemy’s 
light cruisers ; a species of vessel that often proved embarrass- 
ing, after a decided affair, even to the conqueror. 

“ I think. Sir Gervaise,” Wycherly modestly added, “ that 
the French have boarded their tacks, and are pressing up to 
windward to near us. Did it not appear so to you, Captain 
Greenly ?” 

“ Not at all. If they carry courses, the sails have been 
set within the last five minutes — ha ! Sir Gervaise, that is an 
indication of a busy night !” 

As he spoke, Greenly pointed to the place where the 
French admiral was known to be, where at that instant ap- 
peared a double row of lights ; proving that the batteries 
had their lanterns lit, and showing a disposition to engage. 
In less than a minute the whole French line was to be traced 
along the sea, by the double rows of illumination, the light 
resembling that which is seen through the window of a 
room that has a bright fire, rather than one in which lamps 
or candles are actually visible. As this was just the species 
of engagement in which the English had much to risk, and 
little to gain. Sir Gervaise immediately gave orders to brace 
forward the yards, to board fore-and-main tacks, and to set 
top-gallant-sails. As a matter of course, the ships astern made 
sail in the same manner, and hauled up on taut bowlines, 
following the admiral. 

“ This is not our play,” coolly remarked Sir Gervaise ; “ a 


476 


T II K TWO A D M I 11 A L S . 


crippled ship would drop directly into their arms and as foi 
any success at long-shot, in a two-to-one fight, it is not to be 
looked for. No — no — Monsieur de Vervillin, show us your 
teeth if you will, and a pretty sight it is, but you do not draw 
a shot from me. I hope the order to show no lights is duly 
attended to.” 

“ I do not think there is a light visible from any ship in 
the fleet. Sir Gervaise,” answered Bunting, “ though we are 
so near, there can he no great difficulty in telling where we 
are.” 

“ All but the Carnatic and the prize, Bunting. The more 
fuss they make with us, the less will they think of them.” 

It is probable the French admiral had been deceived by 
the near approach of his enemy, for whose prowess he had 
a profound respect. He had made his preparations in ex- 
pectation of an attack, hut he did not open his fire, although 
heavy shot would certainly have told with effect. Indis- 
posed to the uncertainty of a night-action, he declined bring- 
ing it on, and the lights disappeared from his ports an hour 
later ; at that time the English ships, by carrying sail harder 
than was usual in so stiff a breeze, found themselves out of 
gun-shot, on the weather-bow of their enemies. Then, and 
not till then, did Sir Gervaise reduce his canvass, having, by 
means of his glasses, first ascertained that the French had 
again hauled up their courses, and were moving along at a 
very easy rate of sailing. 

It was now near midnight, and Sir Gervaise prepared to 
go below. Previously to quitting the deck, however, he 
gave very explicit orders to Greenly, who transmitted them 
to the first lieutenant, that officer or the captain intending 
to be on the look-out through the night ; the movements of 
the whole squadron being so dependent on those of the flag- 
ship. The vice-admiral then retired, and went coolly to bed- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 4l1 

He was not a man to lose his rest, because an enemy was 
just out of gun-shot. Accustomed to be manoBuvring in 
front of hostile fleets, the situation had lost its novelty, and 
he had so much confidence in the practice of his captains, 
that he well knew nothing could occur so long as his orders 
were obeyed ; to doubt the latter would have been heresy 
in his eyes. In professional nonchalance, no man exceeded 
our vice-admiral. Blow high, or blow low, it never dis- 
turbed the economy of his cabin-life, beyond what unavoida- 
bly was connected M'ith the comfort of his ship ; nor did 
any prospect of battle cause a meal to vary a minute in 
time or a particle in form, until the bulk-heads were actually 
knocked down, and the batteries were cleared for action. Al- 
though excitable in trifles, and sometimes a little irritable. 
Sir Gervaise, in the way of his profession, was a great man 
on great occasions. His temperament was sanguine, and his 
spirit both decided and bold ; and, in common with all such 
men who see the truth at all, when he did see it, he saw it so 
clearly, as to throw all the doubts that beset minds of a less 
masculine order into the shade. On the present occasion, he 
was sure nothing could well occur to disturb his rest ; and 
he took it with the composure of one on terra-jirnia, and 
in the security of peace. Unlike those who are unaccustomed 
to scenes of excitement, he quietly undressed himself, and his 
head was no sooner on its pillow, than he fell into a profound 
sleep. 

It would have been a curious subject of observation to 
an inexperienced person, to note the manner in which the two 
fleets manoeuvred throughout that night. After several hours 
of ineflectual eflbrts to bring their enemies fairly within reach 
of their guns, after the moon had risen, the French gave the 
matter up for a time, shortening sail while most of their su- 
perior officers caught a little rest. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


478 

The sun was just rising, as Galleygo laid his hand on the 
shoulder of the vice-admiral, agreeably to orders given the 
previous night. The touch sufficed : Sir Gervaise being wide 
awake in an instant. “ Well,” he said, rising to a sitting at- 
titude, and putting the question which first occurs to a sea- 
man, “ how’s the weather ?” 

“ A good top-gallant breeze, Sir Jarvy, and just what’s this 
ship’s play. If you’d only let her out, and on them Johnny 
Crapauds, she’d be down among ’em, in half an hour, like 
a hawk upon a chicken. I ought to report to your honour, 
that the last chicken will be dished for breakfast unless we 
gives an order to the gun-room steward to turn us over some 
of his birds, as pay for what the pigs eat ; which were real 
capons.” 

“ Why, you pirate, you would not have me commit a rob- 
bery, on the high seas, would ye ?” 

“What robbery would it be to order the gun-room to sell 
us some poultry. Lord ! Sir Jarvy, I’m as far from wishing to 
take a thing without an order, as the gunner’s yeoman ; but, 
let Mr. Atwood put it in black and white.” 

“ Tush !” interrupted the master. “ How did the French 
bear from us, when you were last on deck ?” 

“ Why, there they is. Sir Jarvy,” answered Galleygo, 
drawing the curtain from before the state-room window, and 
allowing the vice-admiral to see the rear of the French line 
for himself, by turning half round ; “ and just where we wants 
'em. Their leading ship a little abaft our lee-beam, distant 
one league. That’s vffiat I calls satisfactory, now.” 

“Ay, that is a good position. Master Galleygo. W’^as the 
prize in sight, or were you too chicken-headed to look.” 

“ I chicken-headed ! Well, Sir Jarvy, of all characters 
and descriptions of me, that your honour has seen fit to put 
abroad, this is the most unjustest ; chickens being a food I 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


470 


never thinks on, off soundings. Pig-headed you might in reason 
call me, Sir Jarvy ; for I do looks arter the pigs, which is the 
only real stand-by in a ship ; but I never dreams of a chicken, 
except for your happetite. When they was eight on ’em — ” 

“ ^ as the prize in sight ?” demanded Sir Gervaise, a little 
sharply. 

“ No, Sir Jarvy ; she had disappeared, and the Druid with 
her. But this isn’t all, sir ; for they does say, some’at has 
befallen the Carnatic, she having gone out of our line, like a 
binnacle-lamp at eight bells.” 

“ Ay, she is not visible, either.” 

“ Not so much as a hen-coop. Sir Jarvy ! We all wonders 
what has become of Captain Parker ; no sign of him or of his 
ship is to be found on the briny ocean. The young gentlemen 
of the watch laugh, and say she must have gone up in a water- 
spout, but they laughs so much at misfortins, generally, that I 
never minds ’em.” 

“ Have you had a good look-out at the ocean, this morning. 
Master Galleygo,” asked Sir Gervaise, drawing his head out 
of a basin of water, for, by this time, he was half-dressed, and 
making his preparations for the razor. “ You used to have an 
eye for a chase, when we were in a frigate, and ought to be 
able to tell me if Bluewater is in sight.” 

“ Admiral Blue ! — Well, Sir Jarvy, it is remarkable, but I 
had just rubbed his division out of my log, and forgotten all 
about it. There was a handful of craft, or so, off here to the 
nor’ard, at daylight, but I never thought it was Admiral Blue, 
it being more nat’ral to suppose him in his place, as usual, in 
the rear of our own line. Let me see. Sir Jarvy, how many 
ships has we absent under Admiral Blue ?” 

“ Why, the five two-deckers of his own division, to be sure, 
besides the Ranger and the Gnat. Seven sail in all.” 

“ Yes, that’s just it ! Well, your honour, there was five 


480 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


sail to be seen, out here to the nor’ard, as I told you, and, sure 
enough, it may have been Admiral Blue, with all his craft.” 

By this time. Sir Gervaise had his face covered with lather, 
but he forgot the circumstance in a moment. As the wind 
was at the north-west, and the Plantagenet was on the lar- 
board tack, looking in the direction of the Bill of Portland, 
though much too far to the southward to allow the land to be 
seen, his own larboard quarter-gallery window commanded a 
good view of the whole horizon to windward. Crossing over 
from the starboard state-room, which he occupied ex-qfficio, he 
opened the window in question, and took a look for himself. 
There, sure enough, was visible a squadron of five ships, in 
close order, edging leisurely down on the two lines, under their 
top-sails, and just near enough to allow it to be ascertained 
that their courses were not set. This sight produced a sudden 
change in all the vice-admiral’s movements. The business of 
the toilet was resumed in haste, and the beard was mowed with 
a slashing hand, that might have been hazardous in the motion 
of a ship, but for the long experience of a sailor. This im- 
portant part of the operation was scarcely through, when 
Locker announced the presence of Captain Greenly in the main 
cabin. 

“ What now. Greenly ? — What now ?” called out the 
vice-admiral, pufiing as he withdrew his head, again, from 
the basin — “ What now. Greenly ? Any news from Blue- 
water ?” 

“lam happy to tell you. Sir Gervaise, he has been in sight 
more than an hour, and is closing with us, though shyly and 
slowly. I would not let you be called, as all was right, and I 
knew sleep was necessary to a clear head.” 

“ You have done quite right. Greenly ; God willing, I in- 
tend this to be a busy day ! The French must see our rear 
division ?” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


483 


“ Beyond a doubt, sir, but they show no signs of making 
M. de Yervillin will fight, I feel certain ; though the ex- 
perience of yesterday may render him a little shy as to the 
mode.” 

“ And his crippled ship ? — Old Parker’s friend — I take it 
she is not visible.” 

“ You were quite right in your conjecture. Sir Gervaise ; 
the crippled ship is ofT, as is one of the frigates, no doubt. to see 
her in. Blewet, too, has gone well to windward of the French, 
though he can fetch into no anchorage short of Portsmouth, if 
this breeze stand.” 

“ Any haven will do. Our little success will animate the 
king’s party, and give it more eclat, perhaps, than it really 
merits. Let there be no delay with the breakfast this morning. 
Greenly ; it will be a busy day.” 

“ Ay — ay, sir,” answered the captain in the sailor’s usual 
manner ; “ that has been seen to already, as I have expect- 
ed as much. Admiral Blue water keeps his ships in most 
beautiful order, sir ! I do not think the Cjjesar, which leads, is 
two cable’ s-length from the Dublin, the sternmost vessel. He 
is driving four-in-hand, with a tight rein, too, depend on it, 
sir.” 

At this instant, Sir Gervaise came out of his state-room, his 
coat in his hand, and with a countenance that was thoughtful. 
He finished dressing with an abstracted air, and would not 
have known the last garment was on, had not Galleygo given 
a violent pull on its skirts, in order to smooth the cloth about 
the shoulders. 

“ It is odd, that Bluewater should come down nearly before 
the wind, in a line ahead, and not in a line abreast ! Sir Ger- 
vaise rejoined, as his steward did this office for him. 

“ Let Admiral Blue alone, for doing what’s right,” put in 
Galleygo, in his usual confident and self-possessed manner. 

41 


482 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


* ‘ By keeping his ships astern of hisself, he can tell where 
to find ’em, and we understands from experience, if Admi- 
ral Blue knows where to find a ship, he knows how to use 
her.” 

Instead of rebuking this interference, which went a little 
further than common. Greenly was surprised to see the vice- 
admiral look his steward intently in the face, as if the man 
had expressed some shrewd and comprehensive truth. Then 
turning to his captain. Sir Gervaise intimated an intention 
of going on deck to survey the state of things with his own 
eyes. 


CHAPTER XXVTT. 


“ Thou shoxildst have died, O high-soul’d chief. 

In those bright days of glory fled, 

When triumph so prevailed o’er grief. 

We scarce would mourn the dead.” 

Mrs. Hemans. 

The eventful day opened with most of the glories of a 
summer’s morning. The wind alone prevented it from being 
one of the finest sun-risings of July. That continued fresh, at 
north-west, and, consequently, cool for the season. The seas 
of the south-west gale had entirely subsided, and were already 
succeeded by the regular but comparatively trifling swell of the 
new breeze. For large ships, it might be called smooth 
water ; though the Driver and Active showed by their pitch- 
ing and unsteadiness, and even the two-deckers, by their waving 
masts, that the unquiet ocean was yet in motion. The wind 
seemed likely to stand, and was what seamen would be apt to 
call a good six-knot breeze. 

To leeward, still distant about a league, lay the French 
vessels, drawn up in beautiful array, and in an order so close, 
and a line so regular, as to induce the belief that M. de Yer- 
villin had made his dispositions to receive the expected attack, 
in his present position. All his main- top-sails lay flat aback ; 
the top-gallant-sails were flying loose, but with buntlings and 
clew-lines hauled up ; the jibs were fluttering to leeward of 
their booms, and the courses were hanging in festoons beneath 
their yards. This was gallant fighting-canvass, and it excited 
the admiration of even his enemies. To increase this feeling,. 


484 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


just as Sir Gervaise's foot reached the poop, the whole French 
line displayed their ensigns, and le Foudroyant fired a gun to 
windward. 

“ Hey ! Greenly ?” exclaimed the English commander-in- 
chief ; “ this is a manly defiance, and coming from M. de 
Vervillin, it means something ! He wishes to take the day for 
it ; though, as I think half that time will answer, we will 
wash up the cups before we go at it. Make the signals. Bunt- 
ing, for the ships to heave-to, and then to get their breakfasts, 
as fast as possible. Steady breeze — steady breeze. Greenly, 
and all we w^ant !” 

Five minutes later, while Sir Gervaise was running his eye 
over the signal-book, the Plantagenet’s calls w^ere piping the 
people to their morning meal, at least an hour earlier than 
common ; the people repaired to their messes, with a sort of 
stern joy ; every man in the ship understanding the reason of 
a summons so unusual. The calls of the vessels astern were 
heard soon after, and one of the officers who w'as watching the 
enemy with a glass, reported that he thought the French were 
breakfasting, also. Orders being given to the officers to employ 
the next half hour in the same manner, nearly every body was 
soon engaged in eating ; few thinking that the meal might 
probably be their last. Sir Gervaise felt a concern, which he 
succeeded in concealing, however, at the circumstance that the 
ships to windward made no more sail ; though he refrained 
from signalling the rear-admiral to that effect, from tenderness 
to his friend, and a vague apprehension of what might be the 
consequences. While the crews were eating, he stood gazing, 
thoughtfully, at the noble spectacle the enemy offered, to lee- 
ward, occasionally turning wistful glances at the division that 
was constantly drawing nearer to windward. At length 
Greenly, himself, reported that the Plantagenet had “ turned 
the hands-to,” again. At this intelligence. Sir Gervaise 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


485 


started, as from a reverie, smiled, and spoke. We will here 
remark, that now, as on the previous day, all the natural ex- 
citability of manner had disappeared from the commander-in - 
chief, and he was quiet, and exceedingly gentle in his deport- 
ment. This, all who knew him, understood to denote a serious 
determination to engage. 

“ I have desired Galleygo to set my little table, half an 
hour hence, in the after-cabin. Greenly, and you will share the 
meal with me. Sir Wycherly will be of our party, and I hope 
it will not be the last time we may meet at the same board. 
It is necessary every thing should be in fighting-order to-day !” 

“ So I understand it, Sir Gervaise. We are ready to begin, 
as soon as the order shall be received.” 

“ Wait one moment until Bunting comes up from his break- 
fast. Ah ! here he is, and we are quite ready for him, having 
bent-on the signal in his absence. Show the order. Bunting ; 
for the day advances.” 

The little flags were fluttering at the main-top-gallant- 
mast-head of the Plantagenet in less than one minute, and in 
another it was repeated by the Chloe, Driver, and Active, all 
of which were lying-to, a quarter of a mile to windward, char- 
ged in particular with this, among other duties. So well was 
this signal known, that not a book in the fleet was consulted, 
but all the ships answered, the instant the flags could be seen 
and understood. Then the shrill whistles were heard along 
the line, calling “ All hands” to “ clear ship for action, 
ahoy !” 

No sooner was this order given in the Plantagenet, than 
the ship became a scene of active but orderly exertion. The 
top-men were on the yards, stoppering, swinging the yards 
in chains, and lashing, in order to prevent shot from doing 
more injury than w’as unavoidable ; bulwarks were knocked 
down ; mess-chest, bags, and all other domestic appliances, 

4i» 


486 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


disappeared beloiv,^ and the decks were cleared of every thing 
which could be removed, and which would not be necessary in 
an engagement. Fully a quarter of an hour was thus occupied, 
for there M'as no haste, and as it was no moment of mere pa- 
rade, it was necessary that the work should be effectually 
done. The officers forbade haste, and nothing important was 
reported as effected, that some one in authority did not ex- 
amine with his own eyes, to see that no proper care had been 
neglected. Then Mr. Bury, the first lieutenant, went on the 
main-yard, in person, to look at the manner in which it had 
been slung, while he sent the boatswain up forward, on the 
same errand. These WTre unusual precautions, but the word 
had passed through the ship “ that Sir Jarvy was in earnest 
and whenever it was known that “ Sir Jarvy” was in such a 
humour, every one understood that the day’s w^ork was to be 
hard, if not long. 

“ Our breakfast is ready. Sir Jarvy,” reported Galleygo, 
“ and as the decks is all clear, the b’ys can make a clean run 
of it from the coppers. I only wants to know when to serve it, 
your honour.” 

“ Serve it now, my good fellow. Tell the Bowlderos to be 
nimble, and expect us below. Come, Greenly — come, Wyche- 
combe — we are the last to eat — let us not be the last at our 
stations.” 

“ Ship’s clear, sir,” reported Bury to his captain, as the 
three reached the quarter-deck, on their way to the cabin. 

“ Very well, Bury ; when the fleet is signalled to go to 
quarters, we will obey with the rest.” 

As this was said. Greenly looked at the vice-admiral to 


* In the action of the Nile, many of the French ships, under the impression that 
the enemy must engage on the outside, put their lumber, bags, &c., into the ports 
and between the guns, in the larboard, or inshore batteries ; and when the British 
anchored inshore of them, these batteries could not be used. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


48Y 




catch his wishes. But Sir Gervaise had no intention of 
fatiguing his people unnecessarily. He had left his private 
orders with Bunting, and he passed down without an answer 
or a glance. The arrangements in the after-cabin were as 
snug and as comfortable as if the breakfast-table had been set 
in a private house, and the trio took their seats and commenced 
operations with hearty good will. The vice-admiral ordered 
the doors thrown open, and as the port-lids were up, from the 
place where he sat he could command glimpses, both to lee- 
ward and to windward, that included a view of the enemy, as 
well as one of his own expected reinforcements. The Bowl- 
deros were in full livery, and more active and attentive than 
usual even. Their station in battle — for no man on board a 
vessel of war is an “ idler^^ in a combat — was on the poop, as 
musketeers, near the person of their master, whose colours 
they wore, under the ensign of their prince, like vassals of an 
ancient baron. Notwithstanding the crisis of the morning, 
however, these men performed their customary functions with 
the precision and method of English menials, omitting no luxury 
or usage of the table. On a sofa behind the table, was spread 
the full dress-coat of a vice-admiral, then a neat but plain 
uniform, without either lace or epaulettes, but decorated with 
a rich star in brilliants, the emblem of the order of the Bath. 
This coat Sir Gervaise always wore in ‘ battle, unless the 
weather rendered a “ storm-uniform,” as he used to term a'* 
plainer attire, necessary. 

The breakfast passed off pleasantly, the gentlemen eating 
as if no momentous events were near. Just at its close, 
however. Sir Gervaise leaned forward, and looking through 
one of the weather-ports of the main-cabin, an expression of 
pleasure illuminated his countenance, as he said — 

“ Ah ! there go Blue water’s signals, at last ! — a certain proof 
that he is about to put himself in communication with us.” 


488 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“I have been a good deal surprised, sir,” observed Greenly, 
a little drily, though with great respect of manner, “ that you 
have not ordered the rear-admiral to make more sail. He is 
jogging along like a heavy wagon, and yet I hardly think he 
can mistake these five ships for Frenchmen !” 

“He is never in a hurry, and no doubt wishes to let his 
crews breakfast, before he closes. I’ll warrant ye, now, gentle- 
men, that his ships are at this moment all as clear as a church 
five minutes after the blessing has been pronounced.” 

“It will not be one of our Virginian churches, then. Sir 
Gervaise,” observed "Wycherly, smiling ; “ they serve for an 
exchange, to give and receive news in, after the service is 
over.” 

“Ay, that’s the old rule — first pray, and then gossip. 
Well, Bunting, what does the rear-admiral say ?” 

“ Upon my word, Sir Gervaise, I can make nothing of the 
signal, though it is easy enough to make out the flags,” an- 
swered the puzzled signal-officer. “ Will you have the good- 
ness to look at the book yourself, sir. The number is one 
hundred and forty.” 

“ One hundred and forty ! Why, that must have some- 
thing to do with anchoring ! — ay, here it is. ‘ Anchor, I can- 
not, having lost my cables.’ Who the devil asked him to 
anchor ?” 

“ That’s just it, sir. The signal-officer on board the Caesar 
must have made some mistake in his flags ; for, though the 
distance is considerable, our glasses are good enough to read 
them.” 

“ Perhaps Admiral Bluewater has set the private, personal, 
telegraph at work, sir,” quietly observed Greenly. 

The commander-in-chief actually changed colour at this 
suggestion. His face, at first, flushed to crimson; then it 
became pale, like the countenance of one who suffered under 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


489 


acute bodily pain. Wycherly observed this, and respectfully 
inquired if Sir Gervaise w’ere ill. 

“ I thank you, young sir,” answered the vice-admiral, 
smiling painfully ; “ it is over. I believe I shall have to go 
into dock, and let Magrath look at some of my old hurts, which 
are sometimes troublesome. Mr. Bunting, do me the favour 
to go on deck, and ascertain, by a careful examination, if a 
short red pennant be not set some ten or twelve feet above the 
uppermost flag. Now, Greenly, we will take the other cup 
of tea, for there is plenty of leisure.” 

Two or three brooding minutes followed. Then Bunting 
returned to say the pennant tms there, a fact he had quite 
overlooked in his former observations, confounding the narrow 
flag in question with the regular pennant of the king. This 
short red pennant denoted that the communication was verbal, 
according to a method invented by Bluewater himself, and by 
means of which, using the ordinary numbers, he was enabled 
to communicate with his friend, without any of the captains, 
or, indeed, without Sir Gervaise’s own signal-officer’s knowing 
what was said. In a word, without having recourse to any 
new flags, but, by simply giving new numbers to the old ones, 
and referring to a prepared dictionary, it was possible to hold 
a conversation in sentences, that should be a secret to all but 
themselves. Sir Gervaise took down the number of the signal 
that was flying, and directed Bunting to show the answering 
flag, with a similar pennant over it, and to continue this 
operation so long as the rear-admiral might make his signals. 
The numbers were to be sent below as fast as received. As 
soon as Bunting disappeared, the vice-admiral unlocked a sec- 
retary, the key of which w^as never out of his own possession, 
took from it a small dictionary, and laid it by his plate.* All 
this time the breakfast proceeded, signals of this nature fre- 
quently occurring between the two admirals. In the course 


490 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


of the next ten minutes, a quarter-master brought below a 
succession of numbers written on small pieces of paper ; after 
which Bunting appeared himself to say that the Caesar had 
stopped signalling. 

Sir Gervaise now looked out each word by its proper num- 
ber, and wrote it down with his pencil as he proceeded, until 
the whole read — “ God sake — make no signal. Engage not.” 

No sooner was the communication understood, than the paper 
was torn into minute fragments, the book replaced, and the 
vice-admiral, turning with a calm determined countenance to 
Greenly, ordered him to beat to quarters as soon as Bunting ® 
could show a signal to the fleet to the same eflect. On this 
hint, all but the vice-admiral went on deck, and the Bowl- 
deros instantly set about removing the table and all the other 
appliances. Finding himself annoyed by the movements of 
the servants. Sir Gervaise walked out into the great cabin, 
which, regardless of its present condition, he began to pace as 
was his wont when lost in thought. The bulk-heads being 
down, and the furniture removed, this was in truth walking 
in sight of the crew. All who happened to be on the main- 
deck conld see what passed, though no one presumed to enter 
a spot that was tabooed to vulgar feet, even when thus exposed. 
The aspect and manner of “ Sir Jarvy,” however, were not 
overlooked, and the men prognosticated a serious time. 

Such was the state of things, when the drums beat to 
quarters, throughout the whole line. At the first tap, the 
great cabin sunk to the level of an ordinary battery ; the sea- 
men of two guns, with the proper officers, entering within the 
sacred limits, and coolly setting about clearing their pieces, and 
making the other preparations necessary for an action. All 
this time Sir Gervaise' continued pacing what would have been 
the centre of his own cabin had the bulk-heads stood, the grim- 
looking sailors avoiding him with great dexterity, and invariably 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


491 


touching their hats as they were compelled to glide near hia 
person, though every thing went on as if he were not present. 
Sir (xervaise might have remained lost in thought much longer 
than he did, had not the report of a gun recalled him to a 
consciousness of the scene that was enacting around him. 

“ What’s that ?” suddenly demanded the vice-admiral — 
“ Is Bluewater signalling again ?” 

“ No, Sir Gervaise,” answered the fourth lieutenant, look- 
ing out of a lee port ; “ it is the French admiral giving us 
another weather-gun ; as much as to ask why we don’t go 
down. This is the second compliment of the same sort that 
he has paid us already to-day !” 

These words were not all spoken before the vice-admiral 
was on the quarter-deck ; in half a minute more, he was on 
the poop. Here he found Greenly, Wychecombe, and Bunt- 
ing, all looking with interest at the beautiful line of the ene- 
my. 

“ Monsieur de Vervillin is impatient to wipe off the disgrace 
of yesterday,” observed the first, “as is apparent by the in- 
vitations he gives us to come down. I presume Admiral 
Bluewater will w’ake up at this last hint.” 

“ By Heaven, he has hauled his wind, and is standing to 
the northward and eastward !” exclaimed Sir Gervaise, surprise 
overcoming all his discretion. “ Although an extraordinary 
movement, at such a time, it is wonderful in what beautiful 
order Bluewater keeps his ships I” 

All that was said was true enough. The rear-admiral’s 
division having suddenly hauled up, in a close line ahead, each 
ship followed her leader as mechanically as if they moved by a 
common impulse. As no one in the least doubted the rear- 
admiral’s loyalty, and his courage was of proof, it was the 
general opinion that this unusual manoeuvre had some connec- 
tion with the unintelligible signals, and the young officers 


492 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


laughingly inquired among themselves what “ Sir J arvy was 
likely to do next ?” 

It would seem, however, that Monsieur de Vervillin sus- 
pected a repetition of some of the scenes of the preceding day ; 
for, no sooner did he perceive that the English rear was hug- 
ging the wind, than five of his leading ships filled, and drew 
ahead, as if to meet that division, manojuvring to double on 
the head of his line ; w^hile the remaining five, with the 
Foudroyant, still lay with their top-sails to the mast, waiting 
for their enemy to come down. Sir Gervaise could not stand 
this long. He determined, if possible, to bring Bluewater to 
terms, and he ordered the Plantagenet to fill. Followed by 
his owm division, he wore immediately, and. went off under 
easy sail, quartering, towards Monsieur de Vervillin’ s rear, to 
avoid being raked. 

The quarter of an hour that succeeded was one of intense 
interest, and of material changes ; though not a shot w'as fired. 
As soon as the Comte de Vervillin perceived that the English 
were disposed to come nearer, he signalled his own division to 
bear up, and to run off dead before the wdnd, under their top- 
sails, commencing astern ; which reversed his order of sailing, 
and brought le Foudroyant in the rear, or nearest to the enemy. 
This was no sooner done, than he settled all his top-sails on the 
caps. There could be no mistaking this manoeuvre. It was 
a direct invitation to Sir Gervaise to come down, fairly along- 
side ; the bearing up at once removing all risk of being raked 
in so doing. The English commander-in-chief was not a man 
to neglect such a palpable challenge ; but, making a few 
signals to direct the mode of attack he contemplated, he set 
foresail and main-top-gallant sail, and brought the wind directly 
over his own taffrail. The vessels astern followed like clock- 
work, and no one now doubted that the mode of attack was 
settled for that day. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


493 


As the French, with Monsieur de Yervillin, were still half 
a mile to the southward and eastward of the approaching 
division of their enemy, the Comte collected all his frigates 
and corvettes on his starboard hand, leaving a clear approach 
to Sir Gervaise on his larboard beam. This hint was under- 
stood, too, and the Plantagenet steered a course that would 
bring her up on that ^ide of le Foudroyant, and at the distance 
of about one hundred yards from the muzzles of her guns. 
This threatened to be close work, and unusual work in fleets, 
at that day ; but it was the game our commander-in-chief was 
fond of playing, and it was one, also, that promised soonest to 
bring matters to a result. 

These preliminaries arranged, there was yet leisure for the 
respective commanders to look about them. The French 
were still fully a mile ahead of their enemies, and as both 
fleets were going in the same direction, the approach of the 
English was so slow as to leave some twenty minutes of 
that solemn breathing time, which reigns in a disciplined 
ship, previous to the commencement of the combat. The 
feelings of the two commanders-in-chief, at thi-s pregnant in- 
stant, were singularly in contradiction to each other. The 
Comte de Yervillin saw that the rear division of his force, 
under the Comte-Amiral le Yicomte des Prez, was in the 
very position he desired it to be, having obtained the advan- 
tage of the wind by the English division’s coming down, 
and by keeping its own lufl*. Between the two French offi- 
cers there was a perfect understanding as to the course each 
was to take, and both now felt sanguine hopes of being 
able to obliterate the disgrace of the previous day, and that, 
too, by means very similar to those by which it had been 
incurred. On ‘the other hand. Sir Gervaise was beset with 
doubts as to the course Bluewater might pursue. He could 
not, however, come to the conclusion that he would abandon 

42 


494 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


him to the joint efforts of the two hostile divisions ; and so 
long as the French rear-admiral was occupied by the English 
force to windward, it left to himself a clear field and no 
favour in the action with Monsieur de Vervillin. He knew 
Bluewater’s generous nature too well not to feel certain his 
own compliance with the request not to signal his inferior 
would touch his heart, and give him a double chance with 
all his better feelings. Nevertheless, Sir Gervaise Oakes did 
not lead into this action without many and painful misgiv- 
ings. He had lived too long in the world not to know that 
political prejudice was the most demoralizing of all our 
weaknesses, veiling our private vices under the plausible 
concealment of the public weal, and rendering even the well- 
disposed insensible to the wrongs they commit to individuals, 
by means of the deceptive flattery of serving the commu- 
nity. As doubt was more painful than the certainty of his 
worst forebodings, however, and it was not in his nature to re- 
fuse a combat so fairly offered, he was resolved to close with 
the Comte at every hazard, trusting the issue to God, and his 
own efforts. 

The Plantagenet presented an eloquent picture of order 
and preparation, as she drew near the French line, on this 
memorable occasion. Her people were all at quarters, and, 
as Greenly walked through her batteries, he found every 
gun on the starboard side loose, levelled, and ready to be 
fired ; while the opposite merely required a turn or two of 
the tackles to be cast loose, the priming to be applied, and the 
loggerhead to follow, in order to be discharged, also. A death- 
like stillness reigned from the poop to the cock -pit, the older 
seamen occasionally glancing through their ports in order to 
ascertain the relative positions of the two fleets, that they 
might be ready for the collision. As the English got within 
musket-shot, the French ran their topsails to the mast-heads, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


495 


and their ships gathered fresher way through the water. Still 
the former moved with the greatest velocity, carrying the most 
sail, and impelled by the greater momentum. When near 
enough, however. Sir Gervaise gave the order to reduce the 
canvass of his own ship. 

“ That will do. Greenly,” he said, in a mild, quiet tone 
“ Let run the top-gallant-halyards, and haul up the foresail. 
The way you have, will bring you fairly alongside.” 

The captain gave the necessary orders, and the master 
shortened sail accordingly. Still the Plantagenet shot ahead, 
and, in three or four minutes more, her bows doubled so far on 
le Foudroyant’s quarter, as to permit a gun to bear. This was 
the signal for both sides, each ship opening as it might be in 
the same breath. The flash, the roar, and the eddying smoke 
followed in quick succession, and in a period of time that 
seemed nearly instantaneous. The crash of shot, and the 
shrieks of wounded mingled with the infernal din, for nature 
extorts painful concessions of human weaknesses, at such mo- 
ments, even from the bravest and firmest. Bunting was in 
the act of reporting to Sir Gervaise that no signal could yet 
be seen from the Caesar, in the midst of this uproar, when a 
small round-shot, discharged from the Frenchman’s poop, 
passed through his body, literally driving the heart before it, 
leaving him dead at his commander’s feet. 

“ I shall depend on you. Sir Wj’cherly, for the discharge of 
poor Bunting’s duty, the remainder of the cruise,” observed 
Sir Gervaise, with a smile in which courtesy and regret 
struggled singularly for the mastery. “(Quarter-masters, 
lay Mr. Bunting’s body a little out of the way, and cover it 
■with those signals. They are a suitable pall for so brave a 
man !” 

Just as this occurred, the Warspite came clear of the Plan- 
tageiiet, on her outside, according to orders, and she opened 


496 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


with her forward guns, taking the second ship in the French 
line for her target. In two minutes more these vessels also 
were furiously engaged in the hot strife. In this manner, ship 
after ship passed on the outside of the Plantagenet, and 
sheered into her berth ahead of her who had just been her own 
leader, until the Achilles, Lord Morganic, the last of the five, 
lay fairly side by side with le Conquereur, the vessel now at 
the head of the French line. That the reader may understand 
the incidents more readily, we will give the opposing lines in 
the precise form in which they lay, viz. 

Plantagenet le Foudroyant 

Warspite le Temeraire 

Blenheim le Dugay Trouin 

Thunderer I’Ajax 

Achilles le Conquereur. 

The constantly recurring discharges of four hundred pieces 
of heavy ordnance, within a space so small, had the effect to 
repel the regular currents of air, and, almost immediately, to 
lessen a breeze of six or seven knots, to one that would not 
propel a ship more than two or three. This was the first ob- 
servable phenomenon connected with the action, but, as it had 
been expected. Sir Gervaise had used the precaution to lay his 
ships as near as possible in the positions in which he intended 
them to fight the battle. The next great physical consequence, 
one equally expected and natural, but which wrought a great 
change in the aspect of the battle, was the cloud of smoke in 
which the ten ships were suddenly enveloped. At the first 
broadsides between the two admirals, volumes of light, fleecy 
vapour rolled over the sea, meeting midway, and rising thence 
in curling wreaths, left nothing but the masts and sails of the 
adversary visible in the hostile ship. This, of itself, would 
have soon hidden the combatants in the bosom of a nearly im- 
penetrable cloud ; but as the vessels drove onward they entered 


I 


THE TWO ADMIRALS, 


497 


deeper beneath the sulphurous canopy, until it spread on each 
side of them, shutting out the view of ocean, skies, and hori* 
zon. The burning of the priming below contributed to in- 
crease the smoke, until, not only was respiration often difficult, 
but those who fought only a few yards apart frequently could 
not recognise each other’s faces. In the midst of this scene of 
obscurity, and a din that might well have alarmed the caverns 
of the ocean, the earnest and well-drilled seamen toiled at 
their ponderous guns, and remedied with ready hands the in- 
juries received in the rigging, each man as intent on his own 
particular duty as if he wrought in the occupations of an ordi- 
nary gale. 

“ Sir Wycherly,” observed the vice-admiral, when the can- 
nonading had continued some twenty minutes, “ there is little 
for a flag-officer to do in such a cloud of smoke, I would give 
much to know the exact positions of the divisions of our two 
rear-admirals.” 

“ There is but one mode of ascertaining that, Sir Gervaise 
—if it be your pleasure, I will attempt it. By going on the 
main-top-gallant-yard, one might get a clear view, perhaps.” 

Sir Gervaise smiled his approbation, and presently he saw 
the young man ascending the main-rigging, though half con- 
cealed in smoke. Just at this instant. Greenly ascended to the 
poop, from making a tour of observation below. Without 
waiting for a question, the captain made his report. 

“We are doing pretty well, now. Sir Gervaise, though the 
first broadside of the Comte treated us roughly. I think his 
fire slackens, and Bury says, he is certain that his fore-top-mast 
is already gone. At all events, our lads are in good spirits, and 
as yet all the sticks keep their places.” 

“ I’m glad of this. Greenly ; particularly of the latter, just 
at this moment, I see you are looking at those signals — they 
cover the body of poor Bunting.” 

42 * 


498 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ And this train of blood to the ladder, sir — 1 hope our 
young baronet is not hurt ?” 

“ No, it is one of the Bowlderos, who has lost a leg. I shall 
have to see that he wants for nothing hereafter.” 

There was a pause ; then both the gentlemen smiled, aa 
they heard the crashing work made by a shot just beneath 
them, which, by the sounds and the direction, they knew had 
passed through Greenly’s crockery. Still neither spoke. After 
a few more minutes of silent observation, Sir Gervaise remark- 
ed that he thought the flashes of the French guns more distant 
than they had been at first, though, at that instant, not a trace 
of their enemy was to be discovered, exeept in the roar of the 
guns, and in these very flashes, and their eflect on the Plan- 
tagenet. 

“ If so, sir, the Comte begins to find his berth too hot for 
him ; here is the wind still directly over our tafifail, such as 
it is.” 

“ No — no — we steer as we began — I keep my eye on that 
compass below, and am certain we hold a straight course. Go 
forward. Greenly, and see that a sharp look-out is kept ahead. 
It is time some of our own ships should be crippled ; we must^ 
be careful not to run into them. Should such a thing happen 
sheer hard to starboard, and pass inside^ 

“ Ay — ay — Sir Gervaise ; your wishes shall be attended 

to.” 

As this was said. Greenly disappeared, and, at the next 
instant, Wycherly stood in his place. 

“ Well, sir — I am glad to see you back safe. If Greenly 
were here now, he would inquire about his masts, but I wish 
to know the position of the ships' 

“ I am the bearer of bad news, sir. Nothing at all could 
be seen from the top ; but in the cross-trees, I got a good look 
through the smoke, and am sorry to say the French rear* 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


499 


admiral is coming dowm fast on our larboard-quarter, wdth all 
his force. We shall have him abeam in five minutes.” 

“ And Blue water ?” demanded Sir Gervaise, quick as 
lightning. 

“ I could see nothing of Admiral Bluewater’s ships ; but 
knowing the importance of this intelligence, I came down 
immediately, and by the back-stay.” 

“ You have done well, sir. Send a midshipman forward 
for Captain Greenly ; then pass below yourself, and let the 
lieutenants in the batteries hear the news. They must divide 
their people, and by all means give a prompt and well-directed 
first broadside.” 

Wycherly waited for no more. He ran below with the 
activity of his years. The message found Greenly between the 
knight-heads, but he hurried aft to the poop to ascertain its 
object. It took Sir Gervaise but a moment to explain it all to 
the captain. 

“ In the name of Heaven, what can the other division be 
about,” exclaimed Greenly, “ that it lets the French rear- 
admiral come upon us, in a moment like this !” 

“ Of that, sir, it is unnecessary to speak answered 

the commander-in-chief, solemnly. “ Our present business is 
to get ready for this new enemy. Go into the batteries again, 
and, as you prize victory, be careful not to throw away the 
first discharge, in the smoke.” 

As time pressed. Greenly swallowed his discontent, and de- 
parted. The five minutes that succeeded were bitter minutes 
to Sir Gervaise Oakes. Beside himself there were but five 
men on the poop ; viz., the quarter-master who tended the 
signals, and three of the Bowlderos. All of these were 
using muskets as usual, though the vice-admiral never permit- 
ted marines to be stationed at a point which he wished to be 
as clear of smoke, and as much removed from bustle as pos- 


500 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


Bible. He began to pace this comparatively vacant little deck 
with a quick step, casting Avistful glances towards the larboard- 
quarter ; but though the smoke occasionally cleared a little in 
that direction, the firing having much slackened from t>xhaus- 
tion in the men, as well as from injuries given and received, he 
was unable to detect any signs of a ship. Such was the state 
of things when Wycherly returned and reported that his orders 
were delivered, and part of the people Avere already in the lar- 
board-batteries. 


CHAPTER XXVIIl. 


“ And oh, the little warlike world within ! 

The well-reeved guns, the netted canopy, 

The hoarse command, the busy humming din. 

When at a word, the tops are manned on high : 

Hark to the boatswain’s call, the cheering cry I 
While through the seaman’s hand the tackle glides, 

Or school-boy midshipman, that, standing by. 

Strains his shrill pipe, as good or ill betides, 

And well the docile crew that skilful urchin guides.” 

Byron. 

“ Are you quite sure, Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, that 
there is not some mistake about the approach of the rear di- 
vision of the French ?” inquired the vice-admiral, endeavour- 
ing to catch some glimpse of the water, through the smoke on 
the larboard hand. “ May not some crippled ship of our own 
have sheered from the line, and been left by us, unknowingly, 
on that side ?” 

“ No, Sir Gervaise, there is no mistake ; there can be none, 
unless I may have been deceived a little in the distance. I 
saw nothing but the sails and spars, not of a single vessel, but 
of three ships ; and one of them wore the flag of a French rear- 
admiral at the mizzen. As a proof that I was not mistaken, 
sir, there it is this minute ?” 

The smoke on the off side of the Plantagenet, as a mat- 
ter of course, was much less dense than that on the side en- 
gaged, and the wind beginning to blow in eddies, as ever 
happens in a heavy cannonade, there were moments in which 
it cast aside the “ shroud of battle.” At that instant an 
opening occurred through which a single mast, and a single 
sail were visible, in the precise spot where Wycheily had 


502 


T HE TWO ADMIRALS. 


stated the enemy might he looked for. It was a mizzen-top- 
sail, beyond a question, and above it was fluttering the little 
square flag of the rear-admiral. Sir Gervaise decided on the 
character of the vessel, and on his own course, in an instant. 
Stepping to the edge of the poop, with his natural voice, with- 
out the aid of a trumpet of any sort, he called out in tones that 
rose above the roar of the contest, the ominous but familiar 
nautical words of “ stand by !” Perhaps a call from powerful 
lungs (and the vice-admiral’s voice, when he chose to use it, 
was like the blast of a clarion) is clearer and more impressive, 
when unaided by instruments, than when it comes disguised 
and unnatural through a tube. At any rate, these words 
were heard even on the lower deck, by those who stood near 
the hatches. Taking them up, they were repeated by a dozen 
voices, with such expressions as “ Look out, lads ; Sir Jarvy’s 
awake !” “ Sight your guns !” “ Wait till she’s square !” and 
other similar admonitions that it is usual for the sea-officer to 
give, as he is about to commence the strife. At this critical 
moment. Sir Gervaise again looked up, and caught another 
glimpse of the little flag, as it passed into a vast wreath of 
smoke ; he saw that the ship was fairly abeam, and, as if doub- 
ling all his powers, he shouted the word “ fire I” Greenly was 
standing on the lower-deck ladder, with his head just even 
with the coamings of the hatch, as this order reached him, 
and he repeated it in a voice scarcely less startling. The cloud 
on the larboard side was driven in all directions, like dust 
scattered by wind. The ship seemed on fire, and the mis- 
siles of forty-one guns flew on their deadly errand, as it might 
be at a single flash. The old Plantagenet trembled to her 
keel, and even bowed a little at the recoils, but, like one 
suddenly relieved from a burthen, righted and went on her way 
none the less active. That timely broadside saved the English 
Commander-in-chiefs ship from an early defeat. It took the 


T 11 K T W U AD M 1 It A 1, S . 


503 


crew of le Pluton, her new adversary, by surprise ; for they 
had not been able to distinguish the precise position of their 
enemy ; and, besides doing vast injury to both hull and people, 
drew her fire at an unpropitious moment. So uncertain and 
hasty, indeed, was the discharge the French ship gave in re- 
turn, that no small portion of the contents of her guns passed 
ahead of the Plantagenet, and went into the larboard quarter 
of le Temeraire, the French admiral’s second ahead. 

“ That was a timely salute,” said Sir Gervaise, smiling as 
soon as the fire of his new enemy had been received without 
material injury. “ The first blow is always half the battle. 
We may now work on with some hopes of success. Ah ! here 
comes Greenly again, God be praised ! unhurt.” 

The meeting of these two experienced seamen was cordial, 
but not without great seriousness. Both felt that the situation 
of not only the ship, but of the whole fleet, was extremely 
critical, the odds being much too great, and the position of the 
enemy too favourable, not to render the result, to say the very 
least, exceedingly doubtful. Some advantage had certainly 
been obtained, thus far ; but there was little hope of preserving 
it long. The circumstances called for very decided and par- 
ticularly bold measures. 

“ My mind is made up. Greenly,” observed the vice-ad- 
miral. “ We must go aboard of one of these ships, and make it 
a hand-to-hand affair. We will take the French commander- 
in-chief ; he is evidently a good deal cut up by the manner in 
which his fire slackens, and if we can carry him, or even force 
him out of the line, it will give us a better chance with the 
rest. As for Bluewater, God only knows what has become of 
him ! He is not here at any rate, and we must help our 
selves.” 

“ You have only to order. Sir Gervaise, to be obeyed. I 
will lead the boarders, myself.” 


604 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ It must be a general thing, Greenly ; I rather think we 
shall all of us have to go aboard of le Foudroyant. Go, give 
the necessary orders, and when every thing is ready, round in 
a little on the larboard braces, clap your helm a-port, and give 
the ship a rank sheer to starboard. This will bring matters to 
a crisis at once. By letting the foresail fall, and setting the 
spanker, you might shove the ship ahead a little faster.*’ 

Greenly instantly left the poop on this new and important 
duty. He sent his orders into the batteries, bidding the peo- 
ple remain at their guns, however, to the last moment ; and 
particularly instructing the captain of marines, as to the man- 
ner in which he was to cover, and then follow the boarding- 
party. This done, he gave orders to brace forward the yards, 
as directed by Sir Gervaise. 

The reader will not overlook the material circumstance 
that all we have related occurred amid the din of battle. Guns 
were exploding at each instant, the cloud of smoke was both 
thickening and extending, fire was flashing in the semi-obscu- 
rity of its volumes, shot were rending the wood and cutting the 
rigging, and the piercing shrieks of agony, only so much the 
more appalling by being extorted from the stern and resolute, 
blended their thrilling accompaniments. Men seemed to be 
converted into demons, and yet there was a lofty and stubborn 
resolution to conquer mingled with all, that ennobled the strife 
and rendered it heroic. The broadsides that were delivered in 
succession down the line, as ship after ship of the rear division 
reached her station, however, proclaimed that Monsieur des 
Prez had imitated Sir Gervaise’s mode of closing, the only one 
by means of which the leading vessel could escape destruction, 
and that the English were completely doubled on. At this mo- 
ment, the sail-trimmers of the Plantagenet handled their 
braces. The first pull was the last. No sooner were the 
ropes started, than the fore-top-mast went over the bows, 


THE TWO admirals. 


605 


dragging after it the main with all its hamper, the mizzen 
snapping like a pipe-stem, at the cap. By this cruel accident, 
the result of many injuries to shrouds, back-stays, and spars, 
the situation of the Plantagenet became worse than ever ; for, 
not only was the wreck to be partially cleared, at least, to 
fight many of the larboard guns, but the command of the 
ship was, in a great measure, lost, in the centre of one of 
the most infernal melees that ever accompanied a combat 
at sea. 

At no time does the trained seaman ever appear so great, 
as when he meets sudden misfortunes with the steadiness and 
quiet which it is a material part of the morale of discipline to 
inculcate. Greenly was full of ardour for the assault, and was 
thinking of the best mode of running foul of his adversary, when 
this calamity occurred ; but the masts v/ere hardly down, 
when he changed all his thoughts to a new current, and called 
out to the sail-trimmers to “ lay over, and clear the wreck.” 

Sir Gervaise, too, met with a sudden and violent check to 
the current of his feelings. He had collected his Bowlderos, 
and was giving his instructions as to the manner in which they 
were to follow, and keep near his person, in the expected hand- 
to-hand encounter, when the heavy rushing of the air, and the 
swoop of the mass from above, announced what had occurred. 
Turning to the men, he calmly ordered them to aid in getting 
rid of the incumbrances, and was in the very act of directing 
Wycherly to join in the same duty, when the latter exclaimed — 

“ See, Sir Gervaise, here comes another of the French- 
men close upon our quarter. By heavens, they must mean 
to board !” 

The vice-admiral instinctively grasped his sword-hilt tighter, 
and turned in the direction mentioned by his companion There, 
indeed, came a fresh ship, shoving the cloud aside, and, by the 
clearer atmosphere that seemed to accompany her, apparently 

43 


506 


THE 


T WO A U M I R A L S . 


bringing down a current of air stronger than common. When 
first seen, the jib-boom and bowsprit were both enveloped in 
smoke, but his bellying fore-top-sail, and the canvass hanging 
in festoons, loomed grandly in the vapour, the black yards 
seeming to embrace the wreaths, merely to cast them aside. 
The proximity, too, was fearful, her yard-arms promising to 
clear those of the Plantagenet only by a few feet, as her dark 
bows brushed along the admiral’s side. 

“ This will be fearful work, indeed !” exclaimed Sir Ger- 
vaise. “ A fresh broadside from a ship so near, will sweep all 
from the spars. Go, Wychecombe, tell Greenly to call in — 
Hold ! — ’Tis an English ship ! No Frenchman’s bowsprit > 
stands like that ! Almighty God be praised ! ’Tis the Caesar 
— there is the old Roman’s figure-head just shoving out of the 
smoke !” 

This was said with a yell, rather than a cry, of delight, 
and in a voice so loud that the words were heard below, and 
flew through the ship like the hissing of an ascending rocket. 
To confirm the glorious tidings, the flash and roar of guns on 
the olTside of the stranger announced the welcome tidings that 
le Pluton had an enemy of her own to contend with, thus en- 
abling the Plantageuet’s people to throw all their strength on 
the starboard guns, and pursue their other necessary work 
without further molestation from the French rear-admiral. 
The gratitude of Sir Gervaise, as the rescuing ship thrust 
herself in between him and his most formidable assailant was 
too deep for language. He placed his hat mechanically before 
his face, and thanked God, with a fervour of spirit that never 
before had attended his thanksgivings. This brief act of de- 
votion over, he found the bows of the Caesar, which ship w 
advancing very slowly, in order not to pass too far ahead, just 
abreast of the spot where he stood, and so near that objects 
were pretty plainly visible. Between her knight-heads stood 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


507 


Bluewater, conning the ship, by means of a line of officers, his 
hat in his hand, waving in encouragement to his own people, 
while Geofi'rey Cleveland held the trumpet at his elbow. At 
that moment three noble cheers were given by the crews of the 
two friendly vessels, and mingled with the increasing roar of 
the Caesar’s artillery. Then the smoke rose in a cloud over 
.the forecastle of the latter ship, and persons could no longer be 
distinguished. 

Nevertheless, like all that thus approached, the relieving 
ship passed slowly ahead, until nearly her whole length pro- 
tected the undefended side of her consort, delivering her fire 
with fearful rapidity. The Plantagenets seemed to imbibe 
new life from this arrival, and their starboard guns spoke out 
again, as if manned by giants. It was five minutes, perhaps, 
after this seasonable arrival, before the guns of the other ships 
of the English rear announced their presence on the outside of 
Monsieur des Prez’s force ; thus bringing the whole of the two 
fleets into four lines, all steering dead before the wind, and, as 
it were, interwoven with each other. By that time, the poops 
of the Plantagenet and Caesar became visible from one to the 
other, the smoke now driving principally off from the vessels. 
There again were our two admirals each anxiously watching 
to get a glimpse of his friend. The instant the place was 
clear. Sir Gervaise applied the trumpet to his mouth, and called 
out — 

“ God bless you — Dick ! may God for ever bless you — 
your ship can do it — clap your helm hard a-starboard, and 
sheer into M. des Prez ; you’ll have him in five minutes.” 

Bluewater smiled, waved his hand, gave an order, and laid 
aside his trumpet. Two minutes later, the Csesar sheered into 
the smoke on her larboard beam, and the crash of the meeting 
vessels was heard. By this time, the wreck of the Plantagenet 
was cut adrift, and she, too, made a rank sheer, though in a 


508 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


(lirectii)n opposite to that of the Cassar’s. As she went through 
the smoke, her guns ceased, and when she emerged into the 
pure air, it was found that le Foudroyant had set courses and 
top-gallant-sails, and was drawing so fast ahead, as to render 
pursuit, under the little sail that could be set, unprofitable. 
Signals were out of the question, but this movement of the two 
admirals converted the whole battle scene into one of inex- 
plicable confusion. Ship after ship changed her position, and 
ceased her fire from uncertainty what that position was, 
until a general silence succeeded the roar of the cannonade. 
It was indispensable to pause and let the smoke blow 
away. 

It did not require many minutes to raise the curtain on 
the two fleets. As soon as the firing stopped, the wind in- 
creased, and the smoke was driven off to leeward in a vast 
straggling cloud, that seemed to scatter and disperse in the 
air spontaneously. Then a sight of the havoc and destruc- 
tion that had been done in this short conflict was first 
obtained. 

The tw’o squadrons were intermingled, and it required some 
little time for Sir Gervaise to get a clear idea of the state of 
his own ships. Generally, it might be said that the vessels 
were scattering, the French sheering towards their own coast, 
while the English were principally coming by the wind on the 
larboard tack, or heading in towards England. The Cajsar 
and le Pluton were still foul of each other, though a rear- 
admiral’s flag was flying at the mizzen of the first, while that 
which had so lately fluttered at the royal-mast-head of the 
other, had disappeared. The Achilles, Lord Morganic, was 
still among the French, more to leeward than any other En- 
glish ship, without a single spar standing. Her ensigns wtye 
flying, notwithstanding, and the Thunderer and Dublin, both 
in tolerable order, were edging away rapidly to cover their 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


509 


crippled consort ; though the nearest French vessels seemed 
more bent on getting out of the melee, and into their own line 
again, than on securing any advantage already obtained. Le 
Temeraire was in the same predicament as the Achilles as to 
spars, though much more injured in her hull, besides having 
thrice as many casualties. Her flag was down ; the ship hav- 
ing fairly struck to the Warspite, whose boats were already 
alongside of her. Le Foudroyant, with quite one-third of her 
crew killed and wounded, was running off to leeward, with 
signals flying for her consorts to rally round her ; but, within 
less than ten minutes after she became visible, her main and 
mizzen-masts both went. The Blenheim had logt all her top- 
masts, like the Plantagenet, and neither tTie Elizabeth nor the 
York had a mizzen-mast standing, although engaged but a 
very short time. Several lower yards were shot away, or so 
much injured as to compel the ships to shorten sail ; this acci- 
dent having occurred in both fleets. As for the damage done 
to the standing and running rigging, and to the sails, it is only 
necessary to say that shrouds, back and head-stays, braces, 
bowlines and lifts, w'ere dangling in all directions. Mobile the 
canvass that was open exhibited all sorts of rents, from that 
which had been torn like cloth in the shopman’s hands, to the 
little eyelet holes of the canister and grape. It appeared, by 
the subsequent reports of the two parties, that, in this short 
but severe conflict, the slain and wounded of the English 
amounted to seven hundred and sixty-three, including oflicers ; 
and that of the French, to one thousand four hundred and 
twelve. The disparity in this respect would probably have 
been greater against the latter, had it not been for the 
manner in which M. des Prez succeeded in doubling on hi.s 
enemies. 

Little need be said in explanation of the parts of this bat- 
tle that have not been distinctly related. M. des Prez had 

43 * 


510 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


manoeuvred in the manner he did, at the commencement of 
the aflair, in the hope of drawing Sir Gervaise down upon the 
division of the Comte de Vervillin ; and no sooner did he see, 
the first fairly enveloped in smoke, than he wore short round 
and joined in the affair, as has been mentioned. At this 
sight, Bluewater’s loyalty to the Stuarts could resist no longer. 
Throwing out a general signal to engage, he squared away, 
set every thing that would draw on the Caesar, and ar- 
rived in time to save his friend. The other ships followed, 
engaging on the outside, for want of room to imitate theii 
leader. 

Two more of the French ships, at least, in addition to 
le Temeraire and le Pluton, might have been added to the list 
of prizes, had the actual condition of their fleet been known. 
But, at such moments, a combatant sees and feels his own in- 
juries, while he has to conjecture many of those of his ad- 
versaries ; and the English were too much occupied in making 
the provisions necessary to save their remaining spars, to risk 
much in order to swell an advantage that was already so con- 
siderable. Some distant firing passed between the Thunderer 
and Dublin, and I’Ajax, le Dugay Trouin, and I’Hector, before 
the two former succeeded in getting Lord Morganic out of his 
difficulties ; but it led to no material result ; merely inflicting 
new injuries on certain spars that were sufficiently damaged 
before, and killing and wounding some fifteen or twenty men 
quite uselessly. As soon as the vice-admiral saw what was 
likely to be the effects of this episode, he called off Captain 
O’Neil of the Dublin, by signal, he being an officer of a “ hot 
temper,” as the soldier said of himself at Waterloo. The com- 
pliance with this order may be said to have terminated the 
battle. 

The reader will remember that the wind, at the com- 
mencement of the engagement, was at north-west. It was 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


611 


nearly “killed,” as seamen express it, by the cannonade ; then 
it revived a little, as the concussions of the guns gradually 
diminished. But the combined effect of the advance of the 
day, and the rushing of new currents of air to fill the vacu- 
ums produced by the burning of so much powder, was a sud- 
den shift of wind ; a breeze coming out strong, and as it might 
be, in an instant, from the eastward. This unexpected alter- 
ation in the direction and power of the wind, cost the Thun- 
derer her foremast, and did other damage to different ships ; 
but, by dint of great activity and careful handling, all the 
English vessels got their heads round to the northward, while 
the French filled the other way, and went off free, steering 
nearly south-east, making the best of their way for Brest. The 
latter suffered still more than their enemies, by the change just 
mentioned ; and when they reached port, as did all but one the 
following day, no less than three were towed in without a spar 
standing, bowsprits excepted. 

The exception was le Caton, which ship M. de Vervillin 
set fire to and blew up, on account of her damages, in the course 
of the afternoon. Thus of twelve noble two-decked ships with 
which this officer sailed from Cherbourg only two days before, 
he reached Brest with but seven. 

Nor were the English entirely without their embarrassments. 
Although the Warspite had compelled le Temeraire to strike, 
she was kept afloat herself with a good deal of difficulty, and 
that, too, not without considerable assistance from the other 
vessels. The leaks, however, were eventually stopped, and 
then the ship was given up to the care of her own crew. 
Other vessels suffered of course, but no English ship was in as 
much jeopardy as this. 

The first hour after the action ceased, was one of great 
exertion and anxiety to our admiral. He called the Chloe 
alongside by signal, and, attended by Wycherly and his own 


512 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


quarter-masters, Galleygo, who went without orders, and the 
Bowlderos who were unhurt, he shifted his flag to that frigate. 
Then he immediately commenced passing from vessel to vessel, 
in order to ascertain the actual condition of his command. 
The Achilles detained him some time, and he was near her, or 
to leeward, when the wind shifted ; which was bringing him 
to windward in the present state of things. Of this advantage 
he availed himself, by urging the different ships off as fast as 
possible ; and long before the sun w'as in the meridian, all the 
English vessels were making the best of their way towards the 
land, Avith the intention of fetching into Plymouth if possible ; 
if not, into the nearest and best anchorage to leew^ard. The 
progress of the fleet was relatively slow, as a matter of course, 
though it got along at the rate of some five knots, by making a 
free wind of it. 

The master of the Chloe had just taken the sun, in orde. 
to ascertain his latitude, when the vice-admiral commanded 
Denham to set top-gallant-sails, and go within hail of the Cassar. 
That ship had got clear of le Fluton half an hour after the 
action ceased, and she was now leading the fleet, with her 
three topsails on the caps. Aloft she had suffered compara- 
tively little ; but Sir Gervaise knew that there must have been 
a serious loss of men in carrying, hand to hand, a vessel like 
that of M. des Prez. He was anxious to see his friend, and to 
hear the manner in which his success had been obtained, and, 
we might add, to remonstrate with Bluewater on a course that 
had led the latter to the verge of a most dangerous abyss. 

The Chloe was half an hour running through the fleet, 
which was a good deal extended, and was sailing without any 
regard to a line. Sir Gervaise had many questions to ask, too, 
of the different commanders in passing. At last the frigate 
overtook le Temeraire, which vessel was following the Caesar 
under easy canvass. As the Chloe came up abeam. Sir Ger- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


513 


vaise appeared in the gangway of the frigate, and, hat in hand, 
he asked with an accent that was intelligible, though it might 
not have absolutely stood the test of criticism, — 

“ Le Vice-Admiral Oakes, demande comment se porte-ilf 
le contr e-amir al, le Vicomte des Frez?” 

A little elderly man, dressed with extreme care, with a 
powdered head, but of a firm step and perfectly collected ex- 
pression of countenance, appeared on the verge of le Temeraire’s 
poop, trumpet in hand, to reply. 

“ Le Vicomte des Prez remercie hien Monsieur le Che- 
valier Oake, et desire vivement de savoir comment se porte 
Monsieur le Vice- Amir al ?” 

Mutual waves of the trumpets served as replies to the 
questions, and then, after taking a moment to muster his 
French, Sir Gervaise continued — 

“ Pesp)ere voir Monsieur le Contre-Amiral d diner, d 
cinq heures, precis T ' 

The vicomte smiled at this characteristic manifestation of 
good-will and courtesy ; and after pausing an instant to choose 
an expression to soften his refusal, and to express his own sense 
of the motive of the invitation, he called out — 

“ Veuillez hien recevoir nos excuses pour aujourd'hui, 
Mons. le Chevalier. Nous rCavons pas encore digere le re- 
pas si noble regu d vos mains comme dejeuner'^ 

The Chloe passing ahead, bows terminated the interview. 
Sir Gervaise’s French was at fault, for what between the rapid, 
neat, pronunciation of the Frenchman, the trumpet, and the 
turn of the expression, he did not comprehend the meaning of 
the contr e-amir al. 

“ What does he say, Wychecombe ?” he asked eagerly of 
the young man. “ Will he come, or not ?” 

“ Upon my word. Sir Gervaise, French is a sealed language 
to me. Never having been a prisoner, no opportunity has 


514 - 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


offered for acquiring the language. As 1 understood, you in- 
tended to ask him to dinner ; I rather think, from his counte- 
nance, he meant to say he was not in spirits for the entertain- 
ment.” 

“ Pooh ! we would have put him in spirits, and Bluewater 
could have talked to him in his own tongue, by the fathom. 
We will close with the Caesar to leeward, Denham ; never 
mind rank on an occasion like this. It’s time to let the top- 
gallant-halyards run ; you’ll have to settle your top-sails too, 
or we shall shoot past her. Bluew'ater may take it as a salute 
to his gallantry in carrying so fine a ship in so handsome a 
manner.” 

Several minutes now passed in silence, during which the 
frigate was less and less rapidly closing with the larger vessel, 
drawing ahead towards the last, as it might he, foot by foot. 
Sir Gervaise got upon one of the quarter-deck guns, and steady- 
ing himself against the hammock-cloths, he was in readiness 
to exchange the greetings he was accustomed to give and to 
receive from his friend, in the same heartfelt manner as if 
nothing had occurred to disturb the harmony of their feelings. 
The single glance of the eye, the waving of the hat, and the 
noble manner in which Bluewater interposed between him and 
his most dangerous enemy, was still present to his mind, and 
disposed him even more than common to the kindest feelings 
of his nature. Stowel was already on the poop of the Caesar, 
and, as the Chloe came slowly on, he raised his hat in defer- 
ence to the commander-in-chief It was a point of delicacy 
with Sir Gervaise never to interfere with any subordinate flag- 
officer’s vessel any more than duty rigidly required ; conse- 
quently his communications with the captain of the Caesar had 
usually been of a general nature, verbal orders and criticisms 
being studiously avoided. This circumstance rendered the 
commander-in-chief even a greater favourite than common with 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


616 


Stowel. who had all his own way in his own ship, in conse- 
quence of the rear-admiral’s indifierence to such matters. 

“ How do you do, Stowel ?” called out Sir Gervaise, cor- 
dially. “ I am delighted to see you on your legs, and hope 
the old Roman is not much the worse for this day’s treat- 
ment.” 

“ I thank you. Sir Gervaise, we are both afloat yet, though 
we have passed through warm times. The ship is damaged, 
sir, as you may suppose ; and, although it stands so bravely, 
and looks so upright, that foremast of ours is as good as a 
condemned spar. One thirty-two through the heart of it, 
about ten feet from the deck, an eighteen in the hounds, and 
a double-header sticking in one of the hoops ! A spar cannot 
be counted for much that has as many holes in it as those, 
sir !” 

“ Deal tenderly with it, my old friend, and spare the can- 
vass ; those chaps at Plymouth will set all to rights, again, in 
a week. Hoops can be had for asking, and as for holes in the 
heart, many a poor fellow has had them, and lived through it 
all. You are a case in point ; Mrs. Stowel not having spared 
you in that way. I’ll answer for it.” 

“ Mrs. Stowel commands ashore, Sir Gervaise, and I com- 
mand afloat ; and in that way, we keep a quiet ship and a 
quiet house, I thank you, sir ; and I endeavour to think of her 
at sea, as little as possible.” 

“ Ay, that’s the way with you doting husbands ; — always 
ashamed of your own lively sensibilities. But what has 
become of Bluewater ? — Does he know that we are along- 
side ?” 

Stowel looked round, cast his eyes up at the sails, and 
played with the hilt of his sword. The rapid eye of the 
commander-in-chief detected this embarrassment, and quick 
as thought he demanded what had happened. 


516 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Why, yir Gervaise, you know how it is with some ad* 
mirals, who like to be in every thing. I told our respected 
and beloved friend, that he had nothing to do with boarding ; 
that if either of us was to go, I was the proper man ; but 
that we ought both to stick by the ship. He answered some- 
thing about lost honour and duty, and you know, sir, what 
legs he has, when he wishes to use them ! One might as 
well think of stopping a deserter by a halloo ; away he went, 
with the first party, sword in hand, a sight I never saw be- 
fore, and never wish to see again ! Thus you see how it was, 
•sir.” 

The commander-in-chief compressed his lips, until his 
features, and indeed his whole form was a picture of desperate 
resolution, though his face was as pale as death, and the 
muscles of his mouth twitched, in spite of all his physical self- 
command. 

“ I understand you, sir,” he said, in a voice that seemed to 
issue from his chest ; “ you wish to say that Admiral Blue- 
water is killed.” 

“ No, thank God ! Sir Gervaise, not quite as bad as that, 
though sadly hurt ; yes, indeed, very sadly hurt !” 

Sir Gervaise Oakes groaned, and for a few minutes he 
leaned his head on the hammock-cloths, veiling his face from 
the sight of men. Then he raised his person erect, and said 
steadily — 

“ Run your top-sails to the mast-head. Captain Stowel, and 
round your ship to. I will come on board of you.” 

An order was given to Denham to take room, when the 
Chloe came to the wind on one tack and the Ceosar on the 
other. This was contrary to rule, as it increased the distance 
between the ships ; but the vice-admiral was impatient to be 
in his barge. In ten minutes he was mounting the Caesar’s 
side, and in two more he was in Blue water’s main-cabin. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


517 


Geoffrey Cleveland was seated by the table, with his face buried 
in his arms. Touching his shoulder, the boy raised his head, 
and showed a face covered with tears. 

“ How is he, boy ?” demanded Sir Gervaise, hoarsely. “ Do 
the surgeons give any hopes ?” 

The midshipman shook his head, and then, as if the ques* 
tion renewed his grief, he again buried his face in his arms. 
At this moment, the surgeon of the ship came from the rear- 
admiral’s state-room, and following the commander-in-chief 
into the after-cabin, they had a long conference together. 

Minute after minute passed, and the Caesar and Chloe still 
lay with their main-top-sails aback. At the end of half an 
hour, Denham wore round and laid the head of his frigate in 
the proper direction. Ship after ship came up, and went on to 
the northward, fast as her crippled state would allow, yet no 
sign of movement was seen in the Caesar. Two sail had ap- 
peared in the south-eastern board, and they, too, approached 
and passed without bringing the vice-admiral even on deck. 
These ships proved to be the Carnatic and her prize, le Scipion, 
which latter ship had been intercepted and easily captured by 
the former. The steering of M. de Vervillin to the south-west 
had left a clear passage to the two ships, which were coming 
down with a free wind at a handsome rate of sailing. This 
news was sent into the Cajsar’s cabin, but it brought no person 
and no answer out of it. At length, when every thing had 
gone ahead, the barge returned to the Chloe. It merely took a 
note, however, M'^hich was no sooner read by Wycherly, than 
he summoned the Bowlderos and Galleygo, had all the vice-ad- 
miral’s luggage passed into the boat, struck his flag, and took 
his leave of Denham. As soon as the boat was clear of the 
frigate, the latter made all sail after the fleet, to resume her 
ordinary duties of a look-out and a repeating-ship. 

As soon as Wycherly reached the Caesar, that ship hoisted 

44 


518 


I HE TWO ADMIRALS. 


in the vice-admiral’s barge. A report was made to Sir Ger- 
vaise of* what had been done, and then an order came on deck 
that occasioned all in the fleet to stare with surprise. The red 
flag of Sir Gervaise Oakes was run up at the foreroyal-mast- 
head of the Csesar, while the white flag of the rear-admiral 
was still flying at her mizzen. Such a thing had never before 
been known to happen, if it has ever happened since ; and to 
the time when she was subsequently lost, the Caesar was known 
as the double flag-ship. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


“ He spoke ; when behold the fair Geraldine’s form 
On the canvass enchantingly glowed ; 

His touches, they flew like the leaves in a storm ; 

And the pure pearly white, and the carnation warm, 
Contending in harmony flowed.” 

Alston. 


We shall now ask permission of the reader to advance the 
time just eight-and-forty hours; a liberty with the unities 
which, he will do us the justice to say, we have not often 
taken. W^e must also transfer the scene to that already de- 
scribed at Wychecombe, including the Head, the station, the 
roads, and the inland and seaward views. Summer weather 
had returned, 400, the pennants of the ships at anchor scarce 
streaming from their masts far enough to form curved lines. 
Most of the English fleet was among these vessels, though the 
squadron had undergone some changes. The Druid had got 
into Portsmouth with la Victoire ; the Driver and Active had 
made the best of their way to the n^rest ports, with despatches 
for the admiralty ; and the Achilles, in tow of the Dublin, with 
the Chloe to take care of both, had gone to leev’ard, with 
square yards, in the hope of making Falmouth. The rest of 
the force was present, the crippled ships having been towed 
into the roads that morning. The picture among the shipping 
was one of extreme activity and liveliness. Jury-masts were 
going up in the Warspite ; lower and top-sail-yards were down 
to be fished, or new ones were rigging to be sent aloft in their 
places ; the Plantagenet was all a-tanto, again, in readiness 
for another action, with rigging secured and masts fished, while 


520 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


none but an instructed eye could have detected, at a short dis- 
tance, that the Csesar, Carnatic, Dover, York, Elizabeth, and 
one or two more, had been in action at all. The landing was 
crowded with boats as before, and gun-room servants and mid- 
shipmen’s boys were foraging as usual ; some with honest in- 
tent to find delicacies for the wounded, but more with the 
roguish design of contributing to the comforts of the unhurt, by 
making appeals to the sympathies of the women of the neigh- 
bourhood, in behalf of the hurt. 

The principal transformation that had been brought about 
by this state of things, however, was apparent at the station. 
This spot had the appearance of a place to which the head- 
quarters of an army had been transferred, in the vicissitudes 
of the field ; warlike sailors, if not soldiers, flocking to it, as 
the centre of interest and intelligence. Still there was a sin- 
gularity observable in the manner in which these heroes of the 
deck paid their court ; the cottage being seemingly tabooed, or 
at most, approached by very few, while the grass at the foot 
of the flag-staff was already beginning to show proofs of the 
pressure of many feet. This particular spot, indeed, was the 
centre of attraction ; there, officers of all ranks and ages were 
constantly arriving, and thence they were as often departing ; 
all bearing countenances sobered by anxiety and apprehension. 
Notwithstanding the conkant mutations, there had been no 
instant since the rising of the sun, when some ten or twelve, 
at least, including captains, lieutenants, masters and idlers, had 
not been collected around the bench at the foot of the signal- 
stafl', and frequently the number reached even to twenty. 

A little retired from the crowd, and near the verge of the 
cliff, a large tent had been pitched. A marine paced in its 
front, as a sentinel. Another stood near the gate of the little 
door-yard of the cottage, and all persons who approached either, 
with the exception of a few of the privileged, were referred to 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


521 


the sergeant who commanded the gnard. The arms of the 
latter were stacked on the grass, at hand, and the men off post 
w'ere loitering near. These were the usual military signs of 
the presence of officers of rank, and may, in sooth, be taken as 
clues to the actual state of things, on and around the Head. 

Admiral Bluewater lay in the cottage, while Sir Gervaise 
Oakes occupied the tent. The former had been transferred to 
the place where he was about to breathe his last, at his own 
urgent request, while his friend had refused to he separated 
from him, so long as life remained. The two flags Were still 
flying at the mast-heads of the Caesar, a sort of melancholy me- 
morial of the tie that had so long bound their gallant owners 
in the strong sympathies of an enduring personal and profes- 
sional friendship. 

Persons of the education of Mrs. Dutton and her daughter, 
had not dwelt so long on that beautiful head-land, without 
leaving on the spot some lasting impressions of their tastes. 
Of the cottage, we have already spoken. The little garden, too, 
then bright with flowers, had a grace and refinement about it 
that we would hardly have expected to meet in such a place ; 
and even the paths that led athwart the verdant common 
which spread over so much of the upland, had been directed 
with an eye to the picturesque and agreeable. One of these 
paths, too, led to a rustic summer-house — a sort of small, 
rude pavilion, constructed, like the fences, of fragments of 
wrecks, and placed on a shelf of the cliff, at a dizzy elevation, 
but in perfect security. So far from there being any danger in 
entering this summer-house, indeed, Wycherly, during his six 
months’ residence near the Head, had made a path that 
descended still lower, to a point that was utterly concealed 
from all eyes above, and had actually planted a seat on another 
shelf with so much security, that both Mildred and her mother 
often visited it in company. During the young man s recent 

44 * 


522 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


absence, the poor girl, indeed, had passed much of her time 
there, weeping and suffering in solitude. To this seat, Dutton 
never ventured ; the descent, though w^ell protected with ropes, 
requiring greater steadiness of foot and head than intemperance 
had left him. Once or twice, Wycherly had induced Mildred 
to pass an hour with him alone in this romantic place, and 
some of his sweetest recollections of this just-minded and intel- 
ligent girl, were connected with the frank communications that 
had there occurred between them. On this bench he was 
seated at the time of the opening of the present chapter. The 
movement on the Head, and about the cottage, was so great, as 
to deprive him of every chance of seeing Mildred alone, and he 
had hoped that, led by some secret sympathy, she, too, might 
seek this perfectly retired seat, to obtain a moment of unob- 
served solitude, if not from some still dearer motive. He had 
not waited long, ere he heard a heavy foot over his head, and 
a man entered the summer-house. He was yet debating 
W'hether to abandon all hopes of seeing Mildred, when his 
acute ear caught her light and well-known footstep, as she 
reached the summer-house, also. 

“ Father, I have come as you desired,” said the poor girl, 
in those tremulous tones which Wycherly too well understood, 
not to imagine the condition of Dutton. “ Admiral Bluewater 
dozes, and mother has permitted me to steal aw’ay.” 

“ Ay, Admiral Bluewater is a great man, though but little 
better than a dead one !” answered Dutton, as harshly in man- 
ner as the language was coarse. “ You and your mother are 
all attention to him; did I lie in his place, which of you 
would be found hanging over my bed, with pale cheeks and 
tearful eyes ?” 

“ Both of us, father ! Do not — do not think so ill of your 
wife and daughter, as to suppose it possible that either of them 
could forget her duty.” 


TUE TWO ADMIRALS. 


523 


“ Yes, duty might do something, perhaps ; what has duty 
to do with this useless rear-admiral ? I hate the scoundrel — 
he was one of the court that cashiered me'"; and one, too, that 
I am told, was the most obstinate in refusing to help me into 
this pitiful berth of a master.” 

Mildred was silent. She could not vindicate her friend 
without criminating her father. As for Wycherly, he would 
have given a year’s income to be at sea; yet he shrunk from 
wounding the poor daughter’s feelings by letting her know he 
overheard the dialogue. This indecision made him the unwilb 
ing auditor of a conversation that he ought not to have heard 
— an occurrence which, had there been time for reflection, he 
would have taken means to prevent. 

“ Sit you down here, Mildred,” resumed Dutton, sternly, 
“ and listen to what I have to say. It is time that there should 
no longer be any trifling between us. You have the fortunes 
of your mother and myself in your hands ; and, as one of the 
parties so deeply concerned, I am determined mine shall be 
settled at once.” 

“I do not understand you, father,” said Mildred, with a 
tremour in her voice that almost induced the young man to 
show himself, though, w'e owe it to truth to say, that a lively 
curiosity now mingled with his other sensations. “ How can 
I have the keeping of dear mother’s fortunes and yours ?” 

“ Dear mother, truly ! — Dear enough has she proved to 
me ; but I intend the daughter shall pay for it. Hark you, 
Mildred ; I’ll have no more of this trifling — but I ask you in 
a father’s name, if any man has offered you his hand ? Sneak 
plainly, and conceal nothing — I will be answered.” 

“ I wish to conceal nothing, father, that ought to be told ; 
but when a young woman declines the honour that another 
does her in this way, ought she to reveal the secret, even to 
her father ?” 


524 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ She might ; and, in your case, she shall. No more hes- 
itation ; name 07ie of the offers you have had.” 

Mildred, after a brief pause, in a low, tremulous voice, 
pronounced the name of “ Mr. Rotherham.” 

“ I suspected as much,” growled Dutton ; “ there was a 
time when even he might have answered, but we can do bet- 
ter than that now. Still he may be kept as a reserve ; the 
thousand pounds Mr. Thomas says shall be paid, and that and 
the living wdll make a comfortable port after a stormy life. 
Well, who next, Mildred ? Has Mr. Thomas Wychecombe 
ever come to the point ?” 

“ He has asked me to become his wife, within the last 
twenty-four hours ; if that is v^hat you mean.” 

“ No affectations, Milly ; I can’t bear them. You know 
well enough what I mean. What was your answer?” 

“ I do not love him in the least, father, and, of course, I 
told him I could not marry him.” 

“ That don’t follow of course, by any means, girl ! The 
marrying is done by the priest, and the love is a very dif- 
ferent thing. I hope you consider Mrs. Dutton as my 
wife ?” 

“ What a question !” murmured Mildred. 

“ Well, and do you suppose she loves me ; can love me, 
now I am a disgraced, impoverished man ?” 

“Father !” 

“ Come — come — enough of this. Mr. Thomas Wyche 
combe may not be legitimate — I rather think he is not, by tlie 
proofs Sir Reginald has produced within the last day or two ; 
and I understand his own mother is dissatisfied with him, and 
that will knock his claim flat aback. Notwithstanding, Mil- 
dred, Tom Wychecombe has a good six hundred a year al- 
ready, and Sir Reginald himself admits that he must take all 
the personal property the late baronet could leave.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


525 


“You forget, father, ’ said Mildred, conscious of the inef- 
flcacy of any other appeal, “ that Mr. Thomas has promised 
to pay the legacies that Sir Wycherly intended to leave.” 

“ Don’t place any expectations on that, Mildred. I dare 
say he would settle ten of the twenty thousand on you to- 
morrow, if you would consent to have him. But, now, as to 
this new baronet, for it seems he is to have both title and es- 
tate — has he ever offered ?” 

j There was a long pause, during which Wycherly thought 
he heard the hard but suppressed breathing of Mildred. To 
remain quiet any longer, he felt was as impossible as, indeed, 
his conscience told him was dishonourable, and he sprang along 
the path to ascend to the summer-house. At the first sound 
of his footstep, a faint cry escaped Mildred ; but when Wych- 
erly entered the pavilion, he found her face buried in her hands, 
and Dutton tottering forward, equally in surprise and alarm. 
As the circumstances would not admit of evasion, the young 
man threw aside all reserve, and spoke plainly. 

“ I have been an unwilling listener to a part of your dis- 
course with Mildred, Mr. Dutton,” he said, “ and can answer 
your last question for myself I have offered my hand to your 
daughter, sir ; an offer that I now renew, and the acceptance 
of which would make me the happiest man in England. If 
your influence could aid me — for she has refused my hand.” 

“ Refused !” exclaimed Dutton, in a surprise that overcame 
the calculated amenity of manner he had assumed the instant 
Wycherly appeared — “ Refused Sir Wycherly Wychecombe ! 
but it was before your rights had been as well established as 
they are now. Mildred, answer to this — how could you — nay, 
how dare you refuse such an offer as this ?” 

Human nature could not well endure more. Mildred suf- 
fered her hands to fall helplessly into her lap, and exposed a 
face that was lovely as that of an angel’s, though pale nearly 


526 


THE TWO ADMIllAl. S. 


to the hue of death. Feeling extorted the answer she made, 
though the words had hardly escaped her, ere she repented 
having uttered them, and had again buried her face in her 
hands — 

“ Father” — she said — “ could I — dare I to encourage Sir 
Wycherly Wychecombe to unite himself to a family like ours I” 

Conscience smote Dutton with a force .that nearly sobered 
him, and what explanation might have followed it is hard to 
say ; Wycherly, in an under- tone, however, requested to be left 
alone with the daughter. Dutton had sense enough to under- 
stand he was de trop, and shame enough to wish to escape. 
In half a minute, he had hobbled up to the summit of the clift' 
and disappeared. 

“ Mildred ! — Dearest Mildred” — said Wycherly, tenderly, 
gently endeavouring to draw her attention to himself, “ we are 
alone now ; surely — surely — you will not refuse to look at 
me!'" 

“ Is he gone ?” asked Mildred, dropping her hands, and 
looking wildly around. “ Thank God ! It is over, for this 
time, at least ! Now, let us go to the house ; Admiral Blue- 
water may miss me.” 

“ No, Mildred, not yet. You surely can spare me — me, 
who have suffered so much of late on your account — nay, by 
your means, — you can, in mercy, spare me a few short minutes. 
Was this the reason — the only reason, dearest girl, why you 
BO pertinaciously refused my hand ?” 

“Was it not sufficient, Wycherly?” answered Mildred, 
afraid the chartered air might hear her secret. “ Remember 
ivho you are, and what I am ! Could I suffer you to become 
the husband of one to whom such cruel, cruel propositions had 
been made by her own father !” 

“ I shall not affect to conceal my horror of such principles, 
Mildred, but your virtues shine all the brighter by having 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


527 


flourished in their company. Answer me but one question 
frankly, and every other difficulty can be gotten over. Do you 
love me well enough to be my wife, were ^ou an orphan ?” 

Mildred’s countenance was full of anguish, but this ques- 
tion changed its expression entirely. The moment was extra- 
ordinary as were the feelings it engendered, and, almost un- 
consciously to herself, she raised the hand that held her own 
to her lips, in a sort of reverence. In the next instant she was 
encircled in the young man's arms, and pressed with fervour 
to his heart. 

“ Let us go” — said Mildred, extricating herself from an 
embrace that was too involuntarily bestowed, and too heartfelt 
to alarm her delicacy. “ I feel certain Admiral Bluewater 
will miss me !” 

“ No, Mildred, we cannot part thus. Give me, at least, 
the poor consolation of knowing, that if this difficulty did not 
exist — that if you were an orphan for instance — you would be 
mine.” 

“ Oh ! Wycherly, how gladly — how gladly 1 — But, say no 
more — nay — ” 

This time the embrace was longer, more fervent even than 
before, and Wycherly was too much of a sailor to let the 
sweet girl escape from his arms without imprinting on her 
lips a kiss. He had no sooner relinquished his hold of the 
slight person of Mildred, ere it vanished. With this charac- 
teristic leave-taking, we change the scene to the tent of Sir 
Gervaise Oakes. 

“ You have seen Admiral Bluewater ?” demanded the com- 
mander-in-chief, as soon as the form of Magrath darkened the 
entrance, and speaking with the sudden earnestness of a man 
determined to know the worst. “ If so, tell me at once what 
hopes there are for him.” 

“Of all the human passions. Sir Jairvis,” answered Ma- 


528 


the two admirals. 


grath, looking aside, to avoid the keen glance of the other, 
“ hope is generally considered, by all rational men, as the most 
treacherous and delusive ; I may add, of all denominations or 
divisions of hope, that which decides on life is the most un- 
sairtain. We all hope to live. I’m thinking, to a good old age, 
and yet how many of us live just long enough to be disap- 
pointed !” 

Sir Gervaise did not move until the surgeon ceased speak- 
ing ; then he began to pace the tent in mournful silence. He 
understood Magrath’s manner so well, that the last faint hope 
he had felt from seeking his opinion was gone ; he now knew 
that his friend must die. It required all his fortitude to stand 
up against this blow ; for, single, childless, and accustomed to 
each other almost from infancy, these two veteran sailors had 
got to regard themselves as merely isolated parts of the same 
being. Magrath was affected more than he chose to express, 
and he blew his nose several times in a way that an observer 
would have found suspicious. 

“ Will you confer on me the favour. Dr. Magrath,” said Sir 
Gervaise, in a gentle, subdued manner, “ to ask Captain 
Greenly to come hither, as you pass the flag-stalT?” 

“ Most willingly. Sir Jairvis ; and I know he’ll be any 
thing but backward in complying.” 

It was not long ere the captain of the Plantagenet made 
his appearance. Like all around him, the recent victory ap- 
peared to bring no exultation. 

“ I suppose Magrath told ijou all,” said the vice-admiral, 
squeezing the other’s hand. 

“ He gives no hopes. Sir Gervaise, I sincerely regret to 
say.” 

“ I knew as much ! I knew as much ! And yet he is easy. 
Greenly 1 — ^nay, even seems happy. I did feel a little hope 
that this absence from suffering might be a favourable omen.’ 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


o2J 

I am glad to hear that much, sir ; for I have been think- 
ing that it is my duty to speak to the rear-admiral on the sub- 
ject of his brother’s marriage. From his own silence on the 
subject, it is possible — nay, from all circumstances, it is prob- 
able he never knew of it, and there may be reasons why 
he ought to be informed of the affair. As you say he is 
so easy, would there be an impropriety in mentioning it to 
him ?” 

Greenly could not possibly have made a suggestion that 
was a greater favour to Sir Gervaise. The necessity of doing, 
his habits of decision, and having an object in view, contrib- 
uted to relieve his mind by diverting his thoughts to some 
active duty ; and he seized his hat, beckoned Greenly to 
follow, and moved across the hill with a rapid pace, taking the 
path to the cottage. It was necessary to pass the flag-staff. 
As this was done, every countenance met the vice-admiral’s 
glance, with a look of sincere sympathy. The bows that were 
exchanged, had more in them than the naked courtesies of 
such salutations ; they were eloquent of feeling on both 
sides. 

Bluewater was awake, and retaining ^ hand of Mildred 
affectionately in his own, when his friend entered. Relinquish- 
ing his hold, however, he grasped the hand of the vice-admiral, 
and looked earnestly at him, as if he pitied the sorrow that he 
knew the survivor must feel. 

“ My dear Bluewater,” commenced Sir Gervaise, who 
acted under a nervous excitement, as well as from constitu- 
tional decision, “ here is Greenly with something to tell you 
that we both think you ought to know, at a moment like 
this.” 

The rear-admiral regarded his friend intently, as if inviting 
him to proceed. 

“ Why, it’s about your brother J ack, I fancy you cannot 
46 


530 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


have known that he was ever married, or I think 1 should 
have heard you speak of it.” 

“ Married !” repeated Bluewater, with great interest, and 
speaking with very little difficulty. “ I think that must he an 
error. Inconsiderate and warm-hearted he was, but there was 
only one woman he could, nay, ivould have married. She is 
long since dead, but not as his wife ; for that her uncle, a 
man of great wealth, but of unbending will, would never 
have suffered. He survived her, though my poor brother 
did not.” 

This was said in a mild voice, for the wounded man spoke 
equally without effort, and without pain. 

“ You hear. Greenly ?” observed Sir Gervaise. “ And yet 
it is not probable that you should be mistaken.” 

“ Certainly, I am not, gentlemen. I saw Colonel Blue- 
water married, as did another officer who is at this moment in 
this very fleet. Captain Blakely is the person I mean, and I 
know that the priest who performed the ceremony is still living, 
a beneficed clergyman.” 

“ This is wonderful to me ! He fervently loved Agnes 
Hed worth, but his poverty was an obstacle to the union ; and 
both died so young, that there was little opportunity of con- 
ciliating the uncle.” 

“ That, sir, is your mistake. Agnes Hedworth was the 
bride.” 

A noise in the room interrupted the dialogue, and the three 
gentlemen saw Wycherly and Mildred stooping to pick up the 
fragments of a bowl that Mrs. Dutton had let fall. The latter, 
apparently in alarm, at the little accident, had sunk back into 
a seat, pale and trembling. 

“ My dear Mrs. Dutton, take a glass of water,” said Sir 
Gervaise, kindly approaching her; “your nerves have been 
sorely tried of late ; else would not such a trifle afiect you.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


531 


“ It is not that P' exclaimed the matron, huskily. “ It if* 
not that ! Oh ! the fearful moment has come at last ; and, 
from my inmost spirit I thank thee, my Lord and my God, that 
it has come free from shame and disgrace !” 

The closing words were uttered on bended knees, and with 
uplifted hands. 

“ Mother ! — dearest, dearest mother,” cried Mildred, falling 
on her mother’s neck. “ What mean you ? What new misery 
has happened to-day ?” 

Mother I Yes, sweet one, thou art, thou evex shalt be 
my child ! This is the pang I have most dreaded ; but what 
is an unknown tie of blood, to use, and affection, and to a 
mother’s care ? If I did not bear thee, Mildred, no natural 
mother could have loved thee more, or would have died for 
thee, as willingly I” 

“ Distress has disturbed her, gentlemen,” said Mildred, 
gently extricating herself from her mother’s arms, and helping 
her to rise. “ A few moments of rest will restore her.” 

“ No, darling ; it must come now — it ought to come now 
— after what I have just heard, it would be unpardonable not 
to tell it, now. Did I understand you to say, sir, that you were 
present at the marriage of Agnes Hedworth, and that, too, with 
the brother of Admiral Bluewater ?” 

“ Of that fact, there can be no question, madam. I and 
others will testify to it. The marriage took place in London, 
in the summer of 1725, while Blakely and myself were up 
from Portsmouth, on leave. Colonel Bluewater asked us both 
to be present, under a pledge of secresy.” 

“ And in the summer of 1726, Agnes Hedworth died in 
my house and my arms, an hour after giving birth to this dear, 
this precious child— Mildred Dutton, as she has ever since 
been called — Mildred Bluewater, as it would seem her name 
should be.” 


532 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


It is unnecessary to dwell on the surprise with which all 
present, or the delight with which Bluewater and Wycherly 
heard this extraordinary announcement. A cry escaped Mil- 
dred, who threw herself on Mrs. Dutton’s neck, enhvining it 
with her arms, convulsively, as if refusing to permit the tie 
that had so long bound them together, to be thus rudely, torn 
asunder. But half an hour of weeping, and of the tenderest 
consolations, calmed the poor girl a little, and she was able to 
listen to the explanations. These were exceedingly simple, 
and so clear, as, in connection with the other evidence, to put 
the facts out of all doubt. 

Miss Hedworth had become known to Mrs. Dutton, while 
the latter was an inmate of the house of her patron. A year 
or two after the marriage of the lieutenant, and while he was 
on a distant station, Agnes Hedworth threw herself on the 
protection of his wife, asking a refuge for a woman in the most 
critical circumstances. Like all who knew Agnes Hedw'orth, 
Mrs. Dutton both respected and loved her ; but the distance 
created between them, by birth and station, was such as to pre- 
vent any confidence. The former, for the few days passed with 
her humble friend, had acted with the quiet dignity of a woman 
conscious of no wrong ; and no questions could he asked that 
implied doubts, A succession of fainting fits prevented all 
communications in the hour of death, and Mrs. Dutton found 
herself left with a child on her hands, and the dead body of 
her friend. Miss Hedworth had come to her dwelling unat- 
tended and under a false name. These circumstances induced 
Mrs. Dutton to apprehend the worst, and she proceeded to 
make her arrangements with great tenderness for the reputation 
of the deceased. The body was removed to London, and letters 
were sent to the uncle to inform him where it was to be found, 
with a referejice should he choose to inquire into the circum- 
stances of his niece’s death. Mrs. Dutton ascertained that the 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


633 


body was interred in the usual manner, but no inquiry was evei 
made, concerning the particulars. The young duchess, Miss 
Hedworth’s sister, was then travelling in Italy, whence she did 
not return for more than a year ; and we may add, though 
Mrs. Dutton was unable to make the explanation, that her 
inquiries after the fate of a beloved sister, were met by a simple 
statement that she had died suddenly, on a visit to a w’atering- 
place, whither she had gone with a female friend for her health. 
Whether Mr. Hedw^orth himself had any suspicions of his 
niece’s condition, is uncertain ; but the probabilities were 
against it, for she had offended him by refusing a match equal 
in all respects to that made by her elder sister, with the single 
exception that the latter had married a man she loved, whereas 
he exacted of Agnes a very different sacrifice. Owing to the 
alienation produced by this affair, there was little communica- 
tion between the uncle and niece ; the latter passing her time 
in retirement, and professedly with friends that the former 
neither knew nor cared to know. In short, such was the mode 
of life of the respective parties, that nothing was easier than 
for the unhappy young wddow to conceal her state from her 
uncle. The motive was the fortune of the expected child ; 
this uncle having it in his powder to alienate from it, by will, if 
he saw fit, certain family property, that might otherwise de- 
scend to the issue of the two sisters, as his co-heiresses. What 
might have happened in the end, or what poor Agnes medi- 
tated doing, can never be known ; death closing the secret with 
his irremovable seal. 

Mrs. Dutton was the mother of a girl but three months 
old, at the time this little stranger was left on her hands. A 
few weeks later her own child died ; and having waited several 
months in vain for tidings from the Hedworth family, she had 
the surviving infant christened by the same name as that born- 
by her own daughter, and soon came to love it, as much, per- 

45 » 


534 


T H E 'r W O ADMIRALS. 


haps, as if she had borne it. Three years passed in this manner, 
when the time drew near for the return of her husband from 
the East Indies. To be ready to meet him, she changed her 
abode to a naval port, and, in so doing, changed her domestics. 
This left her accidentally, but fortunately, as she afterwards 
thought, completely mistress of the secret of Mildreth’s birth ; 
the one or two others to whom it was known being in stations 
to render it improbable they should ever communicate any thing 
on the subject, unless it were asked of them. Her original 
intention, however, was to communicate the facts, without re- 
serve, to her husband. But he came back an altered man ; 
brutal in manners, cold in his affections, and the victim of 
drunkenness. By this time, the wife was too much attached 
to the child to think of exposing it to the wayward caprices of 
such a being ; and Mildred was educated, and grew in stature 
and beauty as the real offspring of her reputed parents. 

All this Mrs. Dutton related clearly and briefly, refraining, 
of course, from making any allusion to the conduct of her hus- 
band, and referring all her own benevolence to her attachment 
to the child. Bluewater had strength enough to receive Mildred 
in his arms, and he kissed her pale cheek, again and again, 
blessing her in the most fervent and solemn manner. 

“ My feelings were not treacherous or unfaithful,” he said ; 
“ I loved thee, sweetest, from the first. Sir Gervaise Oakes 
has my will, made in thy favour, before we sailed on this last 
cruise, and every shilling I leave will be thine. Mr. Atwood, 
procure that will, and add a codicil explaining this recent dis- 
covery, and confirming the legacy ; let not the last be touched, 
for it is spontaneous and comes from the heart.” 

“ And, now,” answered Mrs. Dutton, “ enough has passed 
for once. The sick-bed should be more quiet. Give me my 
child, again : — I cannot yet consent to part with her for 
ever.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


535 


“Mother ! mother !” exclaimed Mildred, throwing herself 
on Mrs. Dutton’s bosom — “ I am yours, and yours only.” 

“ Not so, I fear, Mildred, if all I suspect he true, and this 
is as proper a moment as another to place that matter also 
before your honoured uncle. Come forward, SirWycherly — I 
have understood you to say, this minute, in my ear, that you 
hold the pledge of this wilful girl to become your wife, should 
she ever be an orphan. An orphan she is, and has been since 
the first hour of her birth.” 

“ No — no — no,” murmured Mildred, burying her face still 
deeper in her mother’s bosom, “ not while you live, can I be 
an orphan. Not now — another time — this is unseasonable- 
cruel — nay, it is not what I said.” 

“ Take her away, dearest Mrs. Dutton,” said Bluewater, 
tears of joy forcing themselves from his eyes. “ Take her 
away, lest too much happiness come upon me at once. My 
thoughts should be calmer at such a moment.” 

Wycherly removed Mildred from her mother’s arms, and 
gently led her from the room. When in Mrs. Dutton’s apart- 
ment, he whispered something in the car of the agitated girl 
that caused her to turn on him a look of happiness, though it 
came dimmed with tears ; then he had his turn of holding her, 
for another precious instant, to his heart. 

“ My dear Mrs. Dutton — nay, my dear mother'' he said, 
“ Mildred and myself have both need of parents. I am an 
orphan like herself, and we can never consent to part with 
you. Look forward, I entreat you, to making one of our fam- 
ily in all things, for never can either Mildred or myself cease 
to consider you as any thing but a parent entitled to more than 
common reverence and affection. ” 

Wycherly had hardly uttered this proper speech, when he 
received what he fancied a ten-fold reward. Mildred, in a 
burst of natural feeling, without affectation or reserve, but 


536 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


yielding to her heart only, threw her arms around his neck, 
murmured the word “thanks” several times, and wept freely 
on his bosom. "When Mrs. Dutton received the sobbing girl 
from him, Wycherly kissed the mother’s cheek, and he left the 
room. 

Admiral Bluewater would not consent to seek his repose 
until he had a private conference with his friend and Wycherly. 
The latter was frankness and liberality itself, but the former 
would not wait for settlements. These he trusted to the young 
man’s honour. His own time was short, and he should die 
perfectly happy could he leave his niece in the care of one like 
our Virginian. He wished the marriage to take place in his 
presence. On this, he even insisted, and, of course, Wycherly 
make no objections, but went to state the case to Mrs. Dutton 
and Mildred. 

“ It is singular, Dick,” said Sir Gervaise, wiping his eyes, 
as he looked from a window that commanded a view of the 
sea, “ that I have left both our flags flying in the Cjesar ! I 
declare, the oddness of the circumstance never struck me till 
this minute.” 

“ Let them float thus a little longer, Gervaise. They have 
faced many a gale and many a battle together, and may en- 
dure each other’s company a few hours longer.” 


CHAPTER XXX. 


“ Compound of weakness and of strength, j\ 

Mighty, yet ignorant of thy power ! 

Loftier than earth, or air, or sea. 

Yet meaner than the lowliest flower! 

Margaret Davidson. 

Not a syllable of explanation, reproach, or self-accusation 
had passed between the commander-in-chief and the rear- 
admiral, since the latter received his wound. Each party 
appeared to blot out the events of the last few days, leaving 
the long vista of their past services and friendship, undisfigured 
by a single unsightly or unpleasant object. Sir Gervaise, while 
he retained an active superintendence of his fleet, and issued 
the necessary orders right and left, hovered around the bed of 
Bluewater with the assiduity and almost with the tenderness 
of a woman ; still not the slightest allusion was made to the 
recent battles, or to any thing that had occurred in the short 
cruise. The speech recorded at the close of the last chapter, 
was the first words he had uttered which might, in any man- 
ner, carry the mind of either back to events that both might 
wish forgotten. The rear-admiral felt this forbearance deeply, 
and now that the subject was thus accidentally broached 
between them, he had a desire to say something in continua- 
tion. Still he waited until the baronet had left the window 
and taken a seat by his bed. 

“ Gervaise,” Bluewater then commenced, speaking low 
from weakness, but speaking distinctly from feeling, “ I can- 
not die without asking your forgiveness. There were several 


538 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


hours when I actually meditated treason — I will not say to my 
king; on that point my opinions are unchanged — but to 

“ Why speak of this, Dick ? You did not know yourself 
when you believed it possible to desert me in the face of the 
enemy. How much better I judged of your character, is seea 
in the fact that I did not hesitate to engage double my force, 
well knowing that you could not fail to come to my rescue.” 

Bluewater looked intently at his friend, and a smile of 
serious satisfaction passed over his pallid countenance as he 
listened to Sir Gervaise’s words, which were uttered with his 
usual warmth and sincerity of manner. 

“ I believe you know me better than I know myself,” he 
answered, after a thoughtful pause ; “ yes, better than I know 
myself. What a glorious close to our professional career would 
it have been, Oakes, had I followed you into battle, as was our 
old practice, and fallen in your w^ake, imitating your own high 
example !” 

“ It is better as it is, Dick — if any thing that has so sad a 
termination can be w'ell — yes, it is better as it is ; you have 
fallen at my side, as it were. We will think or talk no more 
of this.” 

“ We have been friends, and close friends too, for a long 
period, Gervaise,” returned Bluewater, stretching his arm from 
the bed, with the long, thin fingers of the hand extended to 
meet the other’s grasp ; “ yet, I cannot recall an act of yours 
which I can justly lay to heart, as unkind, or untrue.” 

“ God forgive me, if you can — I hope not, Dick ; most 
sincerely do I hope not. It would give me great pain to be- 
lieve it.” 

“ You have no cause for self-reproach. In no one act or 
thought can you justly accuse yourself with injuring me. 
I should die much happier could I say the same of myself 
Oakes I” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


539 


“ Thought ! — Dick ? — Thought ! You never meditated 
aught against me in your whole life. The love you bear 
we, is the true reason why you lie there, at this blessed 
moment.” 

“It is grateful to find that I have been understood. I am 
deeply indebted to you, Oakes, for declining to signal me and 
my division down, when I foolishly requested that untimely 
forbearance. I was then suffering an anguish of mind, to 
which any pain of the body I may now endure, is an elysium ; 
your self-denial gave time — ” 

“ For the heart to prompt you to that which your feelings 
yearned to do from the first, Blue water,” interrupted Sir Ger- 
vaise. “ And, now, as your commanding officer, I enjoin 
silence on this subject, ybr ever''' 

“ I will endeavour to obey. It will not be long, Oakes, 
that I shall remain under your orders,” added the rear-admiral, 
with a painful smile. “ There should be no charge of mutiny 
against me in the last act of my life. You ought to forgive the 
one sin of omission, when you remember how much and how 
completely my will has been subject to yours, during the last 
five-and-thirty years, — how little my mind has matured a pro- 
fessional thought that yours has not originated 1” 

“ Speak no more of ‘ forgive,’ I charge you, Dick. That you 
have shown a girl-like docility in obeying all my orders, too, is 
a truth I will aver before God and man ; but when it comes to 
mind, I am far from asserting that mine has had the mastery. 
I do believe, could the truth be ascertained, it would be found 
that I am, at this blessed moment, enjoying a professional 
reputation, which is more than half due to you.” 

“ It matters little, now, Gervaise — it matters little, now. 
We were two light-hearted and gay lads, Oakes, when we first 
met as boys, fresh from school, and merry as health and spirits 
could make us.” 


540 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ We were, indeed, Dick I — yes, we were ; thoughtless as 
if this sad moment were never to arrive !” 

“ There were George Anson, and Peter Warren, little 
Charley Saunders, Jack Byng, and a set of us, that did, indeed, 
live as if we were never to die ! We carried our lives, as it 
might he, in our hands, Oakes I” 

“ There is much of that, Dick, in boyhood and youth. But, 
he is happiest, after all, who can meet this moment as you 
do — calmly, and yet without any dependence on his own 
merits.” 

“ I had an excellent mother, Oakes ! Little do we think, 
in youth, how much we owe to the unextinguishable tender- 
ness, and far-seeing lessons of our mothers I Ours both died 
while we were young, yet I do think we were their debtors for 
far more than w'e could ever repay.” 

Sir Gervaise simply assented, hut making no immediate 
answer, otherwise, a long pause succeeded, during which the 
vice-admiral fancied that his friend was beginning to doze. He 
was mistaken. 

“ You will be made Viscount Bowldero, for these last 
affairs, Gervaise,” the wounded man unexpectedly observed, 
showing how much his thoughts W'ere still engrossed with the 
interests of his friend. “ Nor do I see why you should again 
refuse a peerage. Those who remain in this world, may well 
yield to its usages and opinions, while they do not interfere 
with higher obligations.” 

“ I !” — exclaimed Sir Gervaise, gloomily. “ The thought 
of so commemorating what has happened, would be worse than 
defeat to me ! No — I ask no change of name to remind me 
constantly of my loss !” 

Bluewater looked grateful, rather than pleased ; but he 
made no answer. Now, he fell into a light slumber, from 
which he did not awake until the time he had himself set for 


¥ 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


641 


the mariiage of Wycherly and Mildred. With one uncle dead 
and still unburied, and another about to quit the world for 
ever, a rite that is usually deemed as joyous as it is solemn, 
might seem unseasonable ; but the dying man had made it a 
request that he might have the consolation of knowing ere he 
expired, that he left his niece under the legal protection of one 
as competent, as he was desirous of protecting her. The reader 
must imagine the arguments that were used for the occasion, 
but they were such as disposed all, in the end, to admit the 
propriety of yielding their ordinary prejudices to the exigencies 
of the moment. It may be well to add, also, to prevent use- 
less cavilling, that the laws of England were not as rigid on 
the subject of the celebration of marriages in 1745, as they sub- 
sequently became ; and that it was lawful then to perform the 
ceremony in a private house without a license, and without 
the publishing of banns, even ; restrictions that were imposed 
a few years later. The penalty for dispensing with the publi- 
cation of banns, was a fine of £100, imposed on the clergjunan ; 
and this fine Bluewater chose to pay, rather than leave the 
only great object of life that now remained before him unac- 
complished. This penalty in no degree impaired the validity 
of the contract, though Mrs. Dutton, as a woman, felt averse 
- to parting with her beloved, without a rigid observance of all 
the customary forms. The point had finally been disposed of, 
by recourse to arguments addressed to the reason of this respect- 
able woman, and by urging the necessity of the case. Her 
consent, however, w^as not given without a proviso, that a 
license should be subsequently procured, and a second marriage 
be had at a more fitting moment, should the ecclesiastical 
authorities consent to the same ; a most improbable thing in 
itself 

Mr. Rotherham availed himself of the statute inflicting the 
penalty, as an excuse for not officiating. His real motive, 

46 


542 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 




however, was understood, and the chaplain of the Plantagenet,* 
a divine of character and piety, was substituted in his place 
Bluewater had requested that as many of the captains of the 
fleet should be present as could be collected, and it W’as the 
assembling of these w^arriors of the deep, together with the 
arrival of the clergyman, that first gave notice of the approach 
of the appointed hour. 

It is not our intention to dw^ell on the details of a ceremony 
that had so much that was painful in its solemnities. Neither 
Wycherly nor Mildred made any change in their attire, and 
the lovely bride wept from the time the service began, to the 
moment w^hen she left the arms of her uncle, to be received in 
those of her husband, and was supported from the room. All 
seemed sad, indeed, but Bluewater ; to him the scene was ex- 
citing, but it brought great relief to his mind. 

“ I am now ready to die, gentlemen,” he said, as the door 
closed on the new-married couple. “ My last worldly care is 
disposed of, and it w^ere better for me to turn all my thoughts 
to another state of being. My niece. Lady Wychecombe, wall 
inherit the little I have to leave ; nor do I know that it is of 
much importance to substantiate her birth, as her uncle clearly 
bestowed wdiat would have been her mother’s property, on her 
aunt, the duchess. If my dying declaration can be of any 
use, however, you hear it, and can testify to it. Now, come 
and take leave of me, one by one, that I may bless you all, and 
thank you for much undeserved, and, I fear, unrequited love.” 

The scene that followed was solemn and sad. One by one, 
the captains drew near the bed, and to each the dying man had 
something kind and affectionate to say. Even the most cold- 
hearted looked grave, and O’Neil, a man remarkable for a 
^ait'e cle cxur that rendered the excitement of battle some of 
the pleasantest moments of his life, literally shed tears on the 
hand he kissed. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


643 


“ Ah ! my old friend,” said the rear-admiral, as Parker, of 
the Carnatic, drew near in his customary meek and sub- 
dued manner, “ you perceive it is not years alone that bring 
us to our graves ! They tell me you have behaved as usual 
in these late affairs ; I trust that, after a long life of patient 
and arduous services, you are about to receive a proper re- 
ward.” 

“ I will acknowledge. Admiral Bluewater,” returned Par- 
ker, earnestly, “ that it would be peculiarly grateful to receive 
some mark of the approbation of my sovereign ; principally on 
account of my dear wife and children. We are not, like your- 
self, descended from a noble family ; but must carve our rights 
to distinction, and they who have never known honours of this 
nature, prize them highly.” 

“ Ay, my good Parker,” interrupted the rear-admiral, “ and 
they who have ever known them, know their emptiness ; 
most especially as they approach that verge of existence 
whence the eye looks in a near and fearful glance, over the 
vast and unknown range of eternity.” 

“ No doubt, sir ; nor am I so vain as to suppose that hairs 
which have got to be grey as mine, can last for ever. But, 
what I was about to say is, that precious as honours are to the 
humble, I would cheerfully yield every hope of the sort I have, 
to see you on the poop of the Csesar again, with Mr. Cornet 
at your elbow, leading the fleet, or following the motions of 
the vice-admiral.” 

“ Thank you, my good Parker ; that can never be ; nor can 
I say, now, that I wish it might. When we have cast off from 
the world, there is less pleasure in looking back, than in look- 
ing ahead. God bless you, Parker, and keep you, as you ever 
have been, an honest man.” 

Stowel was the last to approach the bed, nor did he do 
it until all had left the room but Sir Gervaise and himself 


644 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


The indomitable good-nature, and the professional nonchalance 
of Bluewater, by leaving every subordinate undisturbed in the 
enjoyment of his own personal caprices, had rendered the rear- 
admiral a greater favourite, in one sense at least, than the 
commander-in-chief. Stowel, by his near connection with Blue- 
water, had profited more by these peculiarities than any other 
officer under him, and the effect on his feelings had been in a 
very just proportion to the benefits. He could not refrain, it is 
true, from remembering the day when he himself had been a 
lieutenant in the ship in which the rear-admiral had been a 
midshipman, but he no longer recollected the circumstance with 
the bitterness that it sometimes drew after it. On the contrary, 
it was now brought to his mind merely as the most distant of 
the many land-marks in their long and joint services. 

“ Well, Stowel,” observed Bluewater, smiling sadly, “ even 
the old Caesar must be left behind. It is seldom a flag-captain 
has not some heart-burnings on account of his superior, and 
most sincerely do I beg you to forget and forgive any I may 
have occasioned yourself.” 

Heaven help me, sir ! — I was far, just then, from thinking 
of any such thing ! I w^as fancying how little I should have 
thought it probable, when we were together in the Calypso, 
that I should ever be thus standing at your bedside. Really, 
Admiral Bluewater, I would rejoice to share with you the 
remnant of life that is left me.” 

“ I do believe you would, Stow'el ; but that can never be. 
I have just performed my last act in this world, in giving my 
niece to Sir Wycherly Wychecombe.” 

“ Yes, sir ; — yes, sir — marriage is no doubt honourable, as 
I often tell Mrs. StoAvel, and therefore not to be despised ; and 
yet it is singular, that a gentleman who has lived a bachelor 
himself, should fancy to see a marriage ceremony performed, 
and that, too, at the cost of £100, if any person choose to corn- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


545 


plain, just at the close of his own cruise ! However, men are 
no more alike in such matters, than women in their domestic 
qualities ; and I sincerely hope this young Sir Wycherly may 
find as much comfort, in the old house I understand he has a 
little inland here, as you and I have had together, sir, in the 
old Csesar. I suppose there’ll be no co-equals in Wychecomhe 
Hall.” 

“ I trust not, Stow'el. But you must now receive my last 
orders, as to the Cfesar — ” 

“ The commander-in-chief has his own flag flying aboard 
of us, sir !” interrupted the methodical captain, in a sort of 
admonitory way. 

“ Never mind that, Stowel ; — I’ll answer for his acquies- 
cence. My body must be received on board, and carried round 
in the ship to Plymouth. Place it on the main-deck, where 
the people can see the coflin ; I would pass my last hours 
above ground, in their midst.” 

“ It shall be done, sir — yes, sir, to the letter. Sir Gervaise 
not countermanding. And I’ll write this evening to Mrs. 
Stowel to say she needn’t come down, as usual, as soon as she 
hears the ship is in, but that she must wait until your flag is 
fairly struck.” 

“ I should be sorry, Stowel, to cause a moment’s delay in 
the meeting of husband and wife !” 

“ Don’t name it. Admiral Bluewater ; — Mrs. Stowel will 
understand that it’s duty ; and when w'e married, I fully ex- 
plained to her that duty, with a sailor, came before matri- 
mony.” 

A little pause succeeded, then Bluewater took a final and 
affectionate leave of his captain. Some twenty minutes elapsed 
in a profound silence, during which Sir Gervaise did not stir, 
fancying that his friend again dozed. But it was ordered that 
Bluewater was never to sleep again, until he took the final 

16 * 


546 


THE TWO ADMIUALS. 


rest of the dead. It was the mind, which had always 
blazed above the duller lethargy of his body, that buoyed him 
thus up, giving an unnatural impulse to his physical powers ; 
an impulse, however, that w^as but momentary, and which, by 
means of the reaction, contributed, in the «nd, to his more 
speedy dissolution. Perceiving, at length, that his friend did 
not sleep, Sir Gervaise drew near his bed. 

“ Richard,” he said, gently, “ there is one without, Avho 
pines to be admitted. I have refused even his tears, under the 
impression that you felt disposed to sleep.” 

“ Never less so. My mind appears to become brighter and 
clearer, instead of fading ; I think I shall never sleep, in the 
sense you mean. Whoever the person is, let him be ad- 
mitted.” 

Receiving this permission. Sir Gervaise opened the door, 
and Geoffrey Cleveland entered. At the same moment, Gal- 
leygo, who came and went at pleasure, thrust in his own un- 
gainly form. The boy’s face betrayed the nature and the 
extent of his grief In his mind. Admiral Blue water was as- 
sociated with all the events of his own professional life ; and, 
though the period had in truth been so short, in his brief exist- 
ence, the vista through which he looked back, seemed quite as 
long as that which marked the friendship of the two admirals, 
themselves. Although he struggled manfully for self-control, 
feeling got the better of the lad, and he threw himself on his 
knees, at the side of his bed, sobbing as if his heart would 
break. Bluewater’s eye glistened, and he laid a hand affec- 
tionately on the head of his young relative. 

“ Gervaise, you will take charge of this boy, when I’m 
gone,” he said ; “ receive him in your own ship. I leave him 
to you, as a very near and dear professional legacy. Cheer up 
— cheer up — my brave boy ; look upon all this as a sailor’s 
fortune. Our lives are the — ” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


547 


The word “ king’s,” which should have succeeded, seemed 
to choke the speaker. Casting a glance of meaning at his 
friend, with a painful smile on his face, he continued silent. 

“ Ah ! dear sir,” answered the midshipman, ingenuously ; 
“ I knew that ive might all be killed, but it never occurred to 
me that an admiral could lose his life in battle. I’m sure 
— I’m sure you are the very first that has met with this 
accident !” 

“ Not by many, my poor Geoffrey. As there are but few 
admirals, few fall ; but we are as much exposed as others.” 

“ If I had only run that Monsieur des Prez through the 
body, when we closed with him,” returned the boy, grating 
his teeth, and looking all the vengeance for which, at the 
passing instant, he felt the desire ; “ it would have been 
something I I might have done it, too, for he was quite un- 
guarded !” 

“ It would have been a very bad thing, boy, to have in- 
jured a brave man, uselessly.” 

“ Of w'hat use was it to shoot you, sir ? We took their 
ship, just the same as if you had not been hurt.” 

“ I rather think, Geoffrey, their ship was virtually taken 
before I was wounded,” returned Bluewater, smiling. “ But 
I was shot by a French marine, who did no more than his 
duty.” 

“ Yes, sir,” exclaimed the boy, impatiently ; “ and he es- 
caped without a scratch. He, at least, ought to have been 
massacred. 

“ Thou art bloody-minded, child ; I scarce know thee. 
Massacred is not a word for either a British nobleman or a 
British sailor. I saved the life of that marine ; and, when 
you come to lie, like me, on your death-bed, Geoffrey, you 
will learn how sweet a consolation can be derived from the 
consciousness of such an act ; we all need mercy, and none 


648 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


ought to expect it, for themselves, who do not yield it to 
others.” 

The hoy was rebuked, and his feelings took a better, though 
scarcely a more natural direction. Bluewater now spoke to 
him of his newly-discovered cousin, and had a melancholy sat- 
isfaction in creating an interest in behalf of Mildred, in the 
breast of the noble-hearted and ingenuous hoy. The latter 
listened with respectful attention, as had been his wont, until, 
deceived by the tranquil and benevolent manner of Bluewater, 
he permitted himself to fall into the natural delusion of believ- 
ing the wound of the rear-admiral less serious than he had 
supposed, and to begin to entertain hopes that the w'ounded 
man might yet survive. Calmed by these feelings, he soon 
ceased to weep ; and, promising discretion, was permitted by 
Sir Gervaise to remain in the room, where he busied himself 
in the offices of a nurse. 

Another long pause succeeded this exciting little scene, 
during which Bluewater lay quietly communing with him- 
self and his God. Sir Gervaise wrote orders, and read reports, 
though his eye was never off the countenance of his friend 
more than a minute or two at a time. At length, the rear- 
admiral aroused himself, again, and began to take an interest 
once more, in the persons and things around him. 

“ Galleygo, my old fellow-cruiser,” he said, “ I leave Sir 
Gervaise more particularly in your care. As 'we advance in 
life, our friends decrease in numbers ; it is only those that have 
been well tried that we can rely on.” 

“Yes, Admiral Blue, I knows that, and so does Sir Jarvy. 
Yes, old shipmates afore young ’uns any day, and old sailors, 
too, afore green hands. Sir Jarvy’s Bowlderos are good plate- 
holders, and the likes of that ; but when it comes to heavy 
weather, and a hard strain, I thinks but little on ’em, all put 
together.” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


549 


“ By the way, Oakes,” said Bluewater, with a sudden in- 
terest in such a subject, that he never expected to feel again, 
“ I have heard nothing of the first day’s work, in which, 
through the little I have gleaned, by listening to those around 
me, I understand you took a two-decker, besides dismasting 
the French admiral ?” 

“ Pardon me, Dick ; you had better tr}’’ and catch a little 
sleep ; the subject of those tw^o days’ work is really painful 
to me.” 

“•Well, then. Sir Jarvy, if you has an avarsion to telling 
the story to Admiral Blue, I can do it, your honour,” put in 
Galley go, who gloried in giving a graphic description of a sea- 
fight. “ I thinks, now, a history of that day will comfort a 
flag-hofficer as has been so badly wounded himself.” 

Bluewater offering no opposition, Galleygo proceeded with 
his account of the evolutions of the ships, as we have already 
described them, succeeding surprisingly w^ell in rendering the 
narrative interesting, and making himself perfectly intelligible 
and clear, by his thorough knowledge, and ready use, of the 
necessary nautical terms. When he came to the moment in 
which the English line separated, part passing to windward, 
and part to leeward of the two French ships, he related the 
incident in so clear and spirited a manner, that the commander- 
in-chief himself dropped his pen, and sat listening with pleasure. 

“ Who could imagine, Dick,” Sir Gervaise observed, “ that 
those fellows, in the tops watch us so closely, and could give so 
accurate an account of w^hat passes !” 

“Ah! Gervaise, and what is the vigilance of Galleygo to 
that of the All-seeing eye ! It is a terrible thought, at an 
hour like this, to remember that nothing can be forgotten. I 
have somewhere read that not an oath is uttered that does 
not continue to vibrate through all time, in the wide-spreading 
currents of sound — not a prayer lisped, that its record is not 


550 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


also to be found stamped on the laws of nature, by the indeli- 
ble seal of the Almighty’s will !” 

There was little in common between the religious impres> 
sions of the two friends. They were both sailors, and though 
the word does not necessarily imply that they were sinners in 
an unusual degree, neither does it rigidly imply that they were 
saints. Each had received the usual elementary education, 
and then each had been turned adrift, as it might be on the 
ocean of life, J;o suffer the seed to take root, and the fruit 
to ripen as best they might. Few of those “ who go down to 
the great deep in ships,” and who escape the more brutalizing 
effects of lives so rude, are altogether without religious im- 
pressions. Living so much, as it were, in the immediate pres- 
ence *of the power of God, the sailor is much disposed to rever- 
ence his omnipotence, even while he transgresses his laws ; 
but in nearly all those instances in which nature has implanted 
a temperament inclining to deep feeling, as was the case with 
Bluewater, not even the harsh examples, nor the loose or irre- 
sponsible lives of men thus separated from the customary ties 
of society, can wholly extinguish the reverence for God which 
is created by constantly dwelling in the presence of his earthly 
magnificence. This sentiment in Bluewater had not been 
altogether without fruits, for he both read and reflected much. 
Sometimes, though at isolated and distant intervals, he even 
prayed ; and that fervently, and with a strong and full sense 
of his own demerits. As a consequence of this general dispo- 
sition, and of the passing convictions, his mind was better 
attuned for the crisis before him, than would have been the 
case with most of his brethren in arms, who, when overtaken, 
with the fate so common to the profession, are usually left to 
sustain their last moments with the lingering enthusiasm of 
strife and victory. 

On the other hand, Sir Gervaise was as simple as a child 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


551 


ill matters of this sort. He had a reverence for his Creator, 
and such general notions of his goodness and love, as the well- 
disposed are apt to feel ; but all the dogmas concerning the 
lost condition of the human race, the mediation, and the power 
of faith, floated in his mind as opinions not to be controverted, 
and yet as scarcely to be felt. In short, the commander-in* 
chief admitted the practical heresy, which overshadows the 
faith of millions, while he deemed himself to be a stout advo- 
cate of church and king. Still, Sir Gervaise Oakes, on occasions, 
was more than usually disposed to seriousness, and was even 
inclined to be devout ; but it was without much regard to 
theories or revelation. At such moments, while his opinions 
would not properly admit him within the pale of any Christian 
church, in particular, his feelings might have identified him 
with all. In a word, we apprehend he was a tolerably fair 
example of w'hat vague generalities, when acting on a tempera- 
ment not indisposed to moral impressions, render the great 
majority of men ; who flit around the mysteries of a future 
state, without alighting either on the consolations of faith, or 
discovering any of those logical conclusions which, half the 
time unconsciously to themselves, they seem to expect. When 
Blue water made his last remark, therefore, the vice-admiral 
looked anxiously at his friend ; and religion for the first time 
since the other received his hurt, mingled with his reflections. 
He had devoutly, though mentally, returned thanks to God for 
his victory, but it had never occurred to him that Bluewater 
might need some preparation for death. 

“ Would you like to see the Plantagenet’s chaplain, again, 
Dick ?” he said, tenderly ; “you are no Paput ; of that I am 
certain.” 

“ In that you are quite right, Gervaise. I consider all 
churches — the one holy Catholic church, if you will, as but a 
means furnished by divine benevolence to aid weak men in 


552 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


their pilgrimage ; but I also believe that there is even a shorter 
way to his forgiveness than through these common avenues. 
How far I am right,” he added, smiling, “ none will prob- 
ably know better than myself, a few hours hence.” 

“ Friends mmt meet again, hereafter, Blue water ; it is 
irrational to suppose that they who have loved each other so 
well in this state of being, are to be for ever separated in the 
other.” 

“ We will hope so, Oakes,” taking the vice-admiral’s 
hand ; “we will hope so. Still, there will be no ships for us 
— no cruises — no victories — no triumphs ! It is only at mo- 
ments like this, at which I have arrived, that we come to 
view these things in their proper light. Of all the past, 
your constant, unwavering friendship, gives me the most 
pleasure I” 

The vice-admiral could resist no longer. He turned aside 
and wept. This tribute to nature, in one so manly, was im- 
posing even to the dying man, and Galleygo regarded it with 
awe. Familiar as the latter had become with his master, by 
use and indulgence, no living being, in his estimation, was as 
authoritative or as formidable as the commander-in-chief ; and 
the effect of the present spectacle, was to induce him to hide 
his own face in self-abasement. Bluewater saw it all, but he 
neither spoke, nor gave any token of his observation. He mere- 
ly prayed, and that right fervently, not only for his friend, but 
for his humble and uncouth follower. 

A reaction took place in the system of the wounded man, 
about nine o’clock that night. At this time he believed him- 
self near his end, and he sent for Wycherly and his niece, to 
take his leave of them. Mrs. Dutton was also present, as was 
Magrath, who remained on shore, in attendance. Mildred 
lay for half an hour, bathing her uncle’s pillow with her 
tears, until she was removed at the surgeon’s suggestion. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


553 


“ Ye’ll see, Sir Gervaise,” he whispered — (or “ Sir Jairvis,” 
as he always pronounced the name,) — “ ye’ll see. Sir Jairvis, 
that it’s a duty of the faculty to prolong life, even when there’s 
no hope of saving it ; and if ye’ll he regairding the judgment 
of a professional man, Lady Wychecombe had better withdraw. 
It would really be a matter of honest exultation for us Plan- 
tagenets to get the rear-admiral through the night, seeing that 
the surgeon of the Csesar said he could no survive the setting 
sun.” 

At the moment of final separation. Blue water had little to 
say to his niece. , He kissed and blessed her again and again, 
and then signed that she should be taken away. Mrs. Dutton, 
also, came in for a full share of his notice, he having desired 
her to remain after Wycherly and Mildred had quitted the 
room. 

“ To your care and affection, excellent woman,” he said, in 
a voice that had now sunk nearly to a whisper — “ we owe 
it, that Mildred is not unfit for her station. Her recovery 
would have been even more painful than her loss, had she been 
restored to her proper family, uneducated, vulgar, and coarse.” 

“ That could hardly have happened to Mildred, sir, in any 
circumstances,” answered the weeping woman. “ Nature has 
done too much for the dear child, to render her any thing but 
delicate and lovely, under any tolerable circumstances of de- 
pression.” 

“ She is better as she is, and God be thanked that he raised 
up such a protector for her childhood. You have been all in all 
to her in her infancy, and she will strive to repay it to your age.” 

Of this Mrs. Dutton felt too confident to need assurances; 
and receiving the dying man’s blessing, she knelt at his bed- 
side, prayed fervently for a few minutes, and withdrew. After 
this, nothing out of the ordinary track occurred until past mid- 
night, and Magrath, more than once, whispered his joyful an- 

47 


554 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


ticipations that the rear-admiral would survive until morning. 
An hour before day, however, the wounded man revived, in a 
way that the surgeon distrusted. He knew that no physical 
change of this sort could well happen that did not arise from 
the momentary ascendency of mind over matter, as the spirit is 
on the point of finally abandoning its earthly tenement ; a cir- 
cumstance of no unusual occurrence in patients of strong and 
active intellectual properties, whose faculties often brighten for 
an instant, in their last moments, as the lamp flashes and 
glares as it is about to become extinct. Going to the bed, he 
examined his patient attentively, and was satisfied that the 
final moment was near. 

“ You’re a man and a soldier. Sir Jairvis,” he said, in a low 
voice, “ and it’ll no be doing good to attempt misleading your 
judgment in a case of this sort. Our respectable friend, the 
rear-admiral, is articulo mortis, as one might almost say ; he 
cannot possibly survive half an hour.” 

Sir Gervaise started. He looked around him a little wdst- 
fully ; for, at that moment, he would have given much to be 
alone with his dying friend. But he hesitated to make a re- 
quest, which, it struck him, might seem improper. From this 
embarrassment, how'ever, he was relieved by Bluewater, him- 
self, who had the same desire, without the same scruples about 
confessing it. He drew the surgeon to his side, and whispered 
a wish to be left alone with the commander-in-chief. 

“ Well, there will be no trespass on the rules of practice in 
indulging the poor man in his desire,” muttered Magrath, as 
he looked about him to gather the last of his professional 
instruments, like the workman who is about 1o quit one 
place of toil to repair to another ; “ and I’ll just be indulging 
him.” 

So saying, he pushed Galleygo and Geoffrey from the room 
before him, left it himself, and closed the door. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


555 


Finding himself alone, Sir Gervaise knelt at the side of the • 
bed and prayed, holding the hand of his friend in both his own. 
The example of Mrs. Dutton, and. the yearnings of his own 
heart, exacted this sacrifice ; when it was over he felt a great 
relief from sensations that nearly choked him.- 

“ Do yoji forgive me, Gervaise ?” whispered Bluewater. 

“ Name it not — name it not, my best friend. We all have 
our moments of weakness, and our need of pardon. May 
God forget all my sins, as freely as I forget your errors !” 

“ God bless you, Oakes, and keep you the same simple- 
minded, true-hearted man, you have ever been.” 

Sir Gervaise buried his face in the bed-clothes, and 
groaned. 

“ Kiss me, Oakes,” murmured the rear-admiral. 

• In order to do this, the commander-in-chief rose from his 
knees and bent over the body of his friend. As he raised him- 
self from the cheek he had saluted, a benignant smile gleamed 
on the face of the dying man, and he ceased to breathe. Near 
half a minute followed, however, before the last and most sig- 
nificant breath that is ever drawn from man, was given. The 
remainder of that night Sir Gervaise Oakes passed in the 
chamber alone, pacing the floor, recalling the many scenes of 
pleasure, danger, pain, and triumph, through which he and 
the dead had passed in company. With the return of light, he 
summoned the attendants, and retired to his tent. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


“ And they came for the buried king that lay 
At rest in that ancient fane ; 

For he must be armed on the battle day, 

With them to deliver Spain ! — 

Then the march went sounding on, 

And the Moors by noontide sun. 

Were dust on Tolosa’s plain.” 

Mrs. Hkmans. 

It rej.iaiiis only to give a rapid sketch of the lortuiies of 
onr principal characters, and of the few incidents that are more 
immediately connected with what has gone before. The death 
of Bluewater was announced to the fleet, at sunrise, by haul- 
ing down his flag from the mizzen of the CsBsar. The vice- 
admiral’s flag came down with it, and re-appeared at the next 
minute at the fore of the Plantagenet. But the little white 
emblem of rank never went aloft again in honour of the de- 
ceased. At noon, it was spread over his coffin, on the main- 
deck of the ship, agreeably to his own request ; and more than 
once that day, did some rough old tar use it, to wipe the tear 
from his eyes. 

In the afternoon of the day after the death of one of our 
heroes, the wind came round to the westward, and all the 
vessels lifted their anchors, and proceeded to Plymouth. The 
crippled ships, by this time, were in a state to carry more or 
less sail, and a stranger who had seen the melancholy-looking 
line, as it rounded the Start, would have fancied it a beaten 
fleet on its return to port. The only signs of exultation that 
appeared, were the jacks that were flying over the white flags 
of the prizes ; and even when all had anchored, the same air 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


55 ^ 


of sadness reigned among these victorious mariners. The body 
was landed, with the usual forms ; but the procession of warriors 
of the deep that followed it, was distinguished by a gravity that 
exceeded the ordinary aspects of mere form. Many of the 
captains, and Greenly in particular, had viewed the manoeuvring 
of Bluew^ater with surprise, and the latter not altogether with- 
out displeasure ; but his subsequent conduct completely erased 
these impressions, leaving no other recollection connected with 
his conduct that morning than the brilliant courage, and ad- 
mirable handling of his vessels, by which the fortunes of a 
nearly desperate day were retrieved. Those who did reflect any 
longer on the subject, attributed the singularity of the course 
pursued by the rear-admiral, to some private orders communi- 
cated in the telegraphic signal, as already mentioned. 

It is unnecessary for us to dwell on the particular move- 
ments of the fleet, after it reached Plymouth. The ships were 
repaired, the prizes received into the service, and, in due time, 
all took the sea again, ready and anxious to encounter their 
country’s enemies. They ran the careers usual to English 
heavy cruisers in that age ; and as ships form characters in this 
work, perhaps it may not be amiss to take a general glance at 
their several fortunes, together with those of their respective 
commanders. Sir Gervaise fairly wore out the Plantagenet, 
which vessel was broken up three years later, though not until 
she had carried a blue flag at her main, more than two years. 
Greenly lived to be a rear-admiral of the red, and died of 
yellow-fever in the Island of Barbadoes. The Cassar, with 
Stowel still in command of her, foundered at sea in a winter’s 
cruise in the Baltic, every soul perishing. This calamity oc- 
curred the winter succeeding the summer of our legend, and 
the only relieving circumstance connected with the disaster, 
was the fact that her commander got rid of Mrs. Stowel alto- 
gether, from that day forward. The Thunderer had her share 

47 * 


558 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


in many a subsequent battle, and Foley, her captain, died rear- 
admiral of England, and a vice-admiral of the red, thirty years 
later. The Carnatic was commanded by Parker, until the 
latter got a right to hoist a blue flag at the rnizzen ; which 
was done for just one day, to comply with form, when both 
ship and admiral were laid aside, as too old for further use. It 
should be added, however, that Parker was knighted by the 
king on board his own ship ; a circumstance that cast a halo 
of sunshine over the close of the life of one, who had com- 
menced his career so humbly, as to render this happy close 
more than equal to his expectations. In direct opposition to 
this, it may be said here, that Sir Gervaise refused, for the third 
time, to be made Viscount Bowldero, with a feeling just the 
reverse of that of Parker’s ; for, secure of his social position, 
and careless of politics, he viewed the elevation with an in- 
difierence that was a natural consequence enough of his own 
birth, fortune, and high character. On this occasion, — it was 
after another victory, — George II. personally alluded to the 
subject, remarking that the success we have recorded had 
never met with its reward ; when the old seaman let out the 
true secret of his pertinaciously declining an honour, about 
which he might otherwise have been supposed to be as indiffer- 
ent to the acceptance, as to the refusal. “ Sir,” he answered 
to the remark of the king, “ I am duly sensible of your majesty’s 
favour ; but, I can never consent to receive a patent of no- 
bility that, in my eyes, will always seem to be sealed with the 
blood of my closest and best friend ” This reply was remem- 
bered, and the subject was never adverted to again. 

The fate of the Blenheim was one of those impressive 
blanks that dot the pages of nautical history. She sailed for 
the Mediterranean alone, and after she had discharged her 
pilot, was never heard of again. This did not occur, how- 
ever, until Captain Sterling had been killed on her decks, in 


THE TWO admirals. 


569 


one of Sir Gervaise’s subsequent actions. The Achilles was 
sufiered to drift in, too near to some heavy French batteries, 
before the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle was signed ; and, after 
every stick had been again cut out of her, she was compelled 
to lower her flag. His earldom and his courage, saved Lord 
Morganic from censure ; but, being permitted to go up to Paris, 
previously to his exchange, he contracted a matrimonial en- 
gagement with a celebrated clameuse, a craft that gave him 
BO much future employment, that he virtually abandoned his 
profession. Nevertheless, his name was on the list of vice-ad- 
mirals of the blue, when he departed this life. The Warspite 
and Captain Goodfellow both died natural deaths ; one as a 
receiving-ship, and the other as a rear-admiral of the white. 
The Dover, Captain Drink water, was lost in attempting to 
weather Scilly in a gale, when her commander, and quite half 
her crew, were drowned. The York did many a hard day’s 
duty, before her time arrived ; but, in the end, she was so 
much injured in a general action as to be abandoned and set 
fire to, at sea. Her commander was lost overboard, in the 
very first cruise she took, after that related in this work. The 
Elizabeth rotted as a guard-ship, in the Medway ; and Cap- 
tain Blakely retired from the service wdth one arm, a yellow 
admiral. The Dublin laid her bones in the cove of Cork, 
having been condemned after a severe winter passed on the 
north coast. Captain O’Neil was killed in a duel wdth a 
French officer, after the peace ; the latter having stated that 
his ship had run away from two frigates commanded by the 
Chevalier. The Chloe was taken by an enemy’s fleet, in the 
next war ; but Captain Denham worked his way up to a white 
flag at the main, and a peerage. The Druid was wrecked 
that very summer, chasing inshore, near Bordeaux ; and 
Blewet, in a professional point of view, never regained the 
ground he lost, on this occasion. As for the sloops and cut- 


560 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


ters, they went the way of all small cruisers, while their 
nameless commanders shared the usual fates of mariners. 

Wycherly remained at Wychecombe until the interment of 
his uncle took place ; at which, aided by Sir Reginald’s in- 
fluence and knowledge, and, in spite of Tom’s intrigues, he 
appeared as chief mourner. The affair of the succession 
was also so managed as to give him very little trouble. Tom, 
discovering that his own illegitimacy was known, and seeing 
the hopelessness of a contest against such an antagonist as Sir 
Reginald, who knew quite as much of the facts as he did of 
the law of the case, was fain to retire from the field. From 
that moment, no one heard any thing more of the legacies. In 
the end he received the X20,000 in the five per cents, and the 
few chattels Sir Wycherly had a right to give away ; but his 
enjoyment of them was short, as he contracted a severe cold 
that very autumn, and died of a malignant fever, in a few 
weeks. Leaving no will, his property escheated ; but it was 
all restored to his two uterine brothers, by the liberality of the 
ministry, and out of respect to the long services of the baron, 
which two brothers, it will he remembered, alone had any 
of the blood of Wychecombe in their veins to boast of. This 
was disposing of the savings of both the baronet and the 
judge, with a very suitable regard to moral justice. 

Wycherly also appeared, though it was in company with 
Sir Gervaise Oakes, as one of the principal mourners at the 
funeral obsequies of Admiral Bluewater. These were of a 
public character, and took place in Westminster Abbey. The 
carriages of that portion of the royal personages who were not 
restrained by the laws of court-etiquette, appeared in the proces- 
ion ; and several members of that very family that the deceased 
regarded as intruders, were present incog, at his last rites. This, 
however, was but one of the many illusions that the great 
masquerade of life is constantly offering to the public gaze. 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


561 


There was litlle difficulty in establishing the claims of 
Mildred, to be considered the daughter of Colonel Blue water 
and Agnes Hed worth. Lord Blue water was soon satisfied ; 
and, as he was quite indifferent to the possession of his kins- 
man’s money, an acquisition he neither wished nor expected, 
the most perfect good-will existed between the parties. There 
was more difficulty with the Duchess of Glamorgan, who had 
acquired too many of the notions of very high rank, to look 
with complacency on a niece that had been educated as the 
daughter of a sailing-master in the navy. She raised many 
objections, while she admitted that she had been the confidant 
of her sister’s attachment to John Bluewater. Her second son, 
Geoffrey, did more to remove her scruples than all the rest 
united ; and when Sir Gervaise Oakes, in person, condescended 
to make a journey to the Park, to persuade her to examine the 
proofs, she could not well decline. As soon as one of her really 
candid mind entered into the inquiry, the evidence was found to 
be irresistible, and she at once yielded to the feelings of nature. 
Wycherly had been indefatigable in establishing his wife’s 
claims — more so, indeed, than in establishing his own ; and, at 
the suggestion of the vice-admiral — or, admiral of the white, 
as he had become by a recent general promotion — he consented 
to accompany the latter in this visit, waiting at the nearest 
town, however, for a summons to the Park, as soon as it could be 
ascertained that his presence would be agreeable to its mistress. 

“ If my niece prove but half as acceptable in appearance, 
as my nephew, Sir Gervaise,” observed the duchess, when the 
young Virginian was introduced to her, and laying stress on 
the word we have italicised — “ nothing can be wanting to the 
agreeables of this new connection. I am impatient, now, to 
see my niece ; Sir Wycherly Wychecombe has prepared me to 
expect a young woman of more than common merit.” 

“ My life on it, duchess, he has not raised your expectations 


662 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


too high. The poor girl is still dwelling in her cottage, the 
companion of her reputed mother j but it is time, Wychecombe, 
that you had claimed your bride.” 

“ I expect to find her and Mrs. Dutton at the Hall, on my 
return. Sir Gervaise ; it having been thus arranged between us. 
The sad ceremonies through which we have lately been, w'ere 
unsuited to the introduction of the new mistress to her abode, 
and the last had been deferred to a more fitting occasion.” 

“ Let the first visit that Lady Wychecombe pays, be to this 
place,” said the duchess. “ I do not command it. Sir Wycher- 
ly, as one who has some slight claims to her duty ; but I solicit 
it, as one who wishes to possess every hold upon her love. Her 
mother was an only sister ; and an only sister’s child must be 
very near to one.” 

It would have been impossible for the Duchess of Glamor- 
gan to have said as much as this before she saw the young 
Virginian ; but, now he had turned out a person so very dif- 
ferent from what she expected, she had lively hopes in behalf 
of her niece. 

Wycherly returned to Wychecombe, after this short visit to 
Mildred’s aunt, and found his lovely bride in quiet possession, 
accompanied by her mother. Dutton still remained at the 
station, for he had the sagacity to see that he might not be 
welcome, and modesty enough to act with a cautious reserve. 
But Wycherly respected his excellent wife too profoundly not 
to have a due regard to her feelings, in all things ; and the 
master was invited to join the party. Brutality and meanness 
united, like those which belonged to the character of Dutton, 
are not easily abashed, and he accepted the invitation, in the 
hope that, after all, he was to reap as many advantages by the 
marriage of Mildred with the affluent baronet, as if she had 
actually been his daughter. 

After passing a few weeks in sober happiness at home, 


THE TWO ADMIRALS.. 


563 


Wycherly felt it due to all parties, to carry his wife to the 
Park, ill order that she might make the acquaintance of the 
near relatives who dwelt there. Mrs. Dutton, by invitation, 
W'as of the party ; but Dutton was left behind, having no ne- 
cessary connection with the scenes and the feelings that w^ere 
likely to occur. It would be painting the duchess too much 
en beau, were we to say that she met Mildred without certain 
misgivings and fears. But the first glimpse of her lovely 
niece completely put natural feelings in the ascendency. The 
resemblance to her sister was so strong as to cause a piercing 
cry to escape her, and, bursting into tears, she folded the 
trembling young woman to her heart, with a fervour and 
sincerity that set at naught all conventional manners. This 
. was the commencement of a close intimacy ; which lasted but 
a short time, however, the duchess dying two years later. 

Wycherly continued in the service until the peace of Aix- 
la-Chapelle, when he finally quitted the sea. His strong 
native attachments led him back to Virginia, where all his own 
nearest relatives belonged, and where his whole heart might 
be said to be, when he saw Mildred and his children at his 
side. With him, early associations and habits had more 
strength, than traditions and memorials of the past. He erect- 
ed a spacious dwelling on the estate inherited from his father, 
where he passed most of his time ; consigning Wychecombe to 
the care o-f a careful steward. With the additions and im- 
provements that he was now enabled to make, his Virginian 
estate produced even a larger income than his English, and his 
interests really pointed to the choice he had made. But no 
pecuniary considerations lay at the bottom of his selection. He 
really preferred the graceful and courteous ease of the inter- 
course which characterized the manners of James’ river. In 
that age, they w^ere equally removed from the coarse and 
boisterous jollity of the English country-squire, and the heart- 
less conventionalities of high life. In addition to this, his sen- 


664 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


silive feelings rightly enough detected that he was regarded in 
the mother-country as a sort of intruder. He was spoken of, 
alluded to in the journals, and viewed even by his tenants as 
the American landlord ; and he never felt truly at home in 
the country for which he had fought and bled. In England, 
his rank as a baronet was not sufficient to look down these lit- 
tle peculiarities ; whereas, in Virginia, it gave him a certain 
eclaty that was grateful to one of the main weaknesses of 
human nature. “ At home,” as the mother-country was then 
affectionately termed, he had no hope of becoming a privy 
councillor ; while, in his native colony, his rank and fortune, al- 
most as a matter of course, placed him in the council of the 
governor. In a word, while Wycherly found most of those 
worldly considerations which influence men in the choice of 
their places of residence, in favour of the region in which he 
happened to be born, his election was made more from feeling 
and taste than from any thing else. His mind had taken an 
early bias in favour of the usages and opinions of the people 
among whom he had received his first impressions, and this 
bias he retained to the hour of his death. 

Like a true woman, Mildred found her happiness with her 
husband and children. Of the latter she had but three ; a boy 
and two girls. The care of the last was early committed to 
Mrs. Dutton. This excellent woman had remained at Wyche- 
combe with her husband, until death put an end to his vices, 
though the close of his career was exempt from those scenes 
of brutal dictation and interference that had rendered the ear- 
lier part of her life so miserable. Apprehension of what might 
be the consequences to himself, acted as a check, and he had 
sagacity enough to see that the physical comforts he now pos- 
sessed were all owing to the influence of his wife. He lived 
but four years, however. On his death, his widow imme- 
diately took her departure for America. 

It would be substituting pure images of the fancy for a pic- 


THE TWO admirals. 


505 


ture of sober realities, were we to say that Lady Wychecombe 
and her adopted mother never regretted the land of their 
birth. This negation of feeling, habits, and prejudices, is not 
to be expected even in an Esquimaux. They both had occa- 
sional strictures to make on the climate, (and this to Wycher- 
ly’s great surprise, for he conscientiously believed that of 
England to be just the worst in the world,) on the fruits, the 
servants, the roads, and the difficulty of procuring various little 
comforts. But, as this was said good-naturedly and in pleas- 
antry, rather than in the M^ay of complaint, it led to no un- 
pleasant scenes or feelings. As all three made occasional 
voyages to England, where his estates, and more particularly 
settlements with his factor, compelled the baronet to go once 
in about a lustrum, the fruits and the climate were finally 
given up by the ladies. After many years, even the slip-shod, 
careless, but hearty attendance of the negroes, came to be pre- 
ferred to the dogged mannerism of the English domestics, 
perfect as w’ere the latter in their parts ; and the whole sub- 
ject got to be one of amusement, instead of one of complaint. 
Tliere is no greater mistake than to suppose that the traveller 
who passes once through a country, with his home-bred, and 
quite likely iwovincial notions thick upon him, is competent to 
describe, with due discrimination, even the usages of which he 
is actually a witness. This truth all the family came, in time, 
to discover ; and while it rendered them more strictly critical 
in their remarks, it also rendered them more tolerant. As it 
was, few happier families were to be found in the British em- 
pire, than that of Sir Wycherly Wychecombe ; its head retain- 
ing his manly and protecting affection for all dependent on him, 
while his wife, beautiful as a matron, as she had been lovely as 
a girl, clung to him with the tenacity of the vine to its own oak. 

Of the result of the rising in the north, it is unnecessary to 
say much. The history of the Chevalier’’ & successes in the 
first year, and of his final overthrow at Oulloden, is well 


566 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


known. Sir Reginald Wychccombe, like hmidreds of others, 
played his cards so skilfully that he avoided committing him- 
self ; and, although he lived and eventually died a suspected 
man, he escaped forfeitures and attainder. With Sir Wych- 
erly, as the head of his house, he maintained a friendly corre- 
spondence to the last, even taking charge of the paternal estate 
in its owner’s absence ; manifesting to the hour of his death, a 
scrupulous probity in matters of money, mingled with an in- 
herent love of management and intrigue, in things that related 
to politics and the succession. Sir Reginald lived long enough 
to see the hopes of the Jacobites completely extinguished, and 
the throne filled by a native Englishman. 

Many long years after the events which rendered the week 
of its opening incidents so memorable among its actors, must 
now be imagined. Time had advanced with its usual un- 
faltering tread, and the greater part of a generation had been 
gathered to their fathers. George III. had been on the throne 
not less than three lustrums, and most of the important actors 
of the period of ’45, w^ere dead ; — many of them, in a degree, 
forgotten. But each age has its own events and its own 
changes. Those colonies, which in 1745 were so loyal, so 
devoted to the house of Hanover, in the belief that political 
and religious liberty depended on the issue, had revolted against 
the supremacy of the parliament of the empire. America was 
already in arms against the mother country, and the very day 
before the occurrence of the little scene we are about to relate, 
the intelligence of the battle of Bunker Hill had reached Lon- 
don. Although the gazette and national pride had, in a de- 
gree, lessened the characteristics of this most remarkable of all 
similar combats, by exaggerating the numbers of the colonists 
engaged, and lessening the loss of the royal troops, the impres- 
sion produced by the news is said to have been greater than 
any known to that age. It had been the prevalent opinion of 
England — an opinion that w^as then general in Europe, and 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


567 


which descended even to our own times — that the animals of 
the new continent, man included, had less courage and physical 
force, than those of the old ; and astonishment, mingled with 
the forebodings of the intelligent, when it was found that a 
body of ill-armed countrymen had dared to meet, in a singularly 
bloody combat, twice their number of regular troops, and that, 
too, under the guns of the king’s shipping and batteries. Ru- 
mours, for the moment, were rife in London, and the political 
world was filled with gloomy anticipations of the future. 

On the morning of the day alluded to, Westminster Abbey, 
as usual, Avas open to the inspection of the curious and inter- 
ested. Several parties were scattered among its aisles and 
chapels, some reading the inscriptions on the simple tablets of 
the dead which illustrate a nation, in illustrating themselves ; 
others listening to the names of princes who derived their con- 
sequence from their thrones and alliances ; and still other sets, 
who were wandering among the more elaborate memorials 
that have been raised equally to illustrate insignificance, and 
to mark the final resting-places of more modern heroes and 
statesmen. The beauty of the weather had brought out more 
visiters than common, and not less than half-a-dozen equip- 
ages were in waiting, in and about Palace Yard. Among 
others, one had a ducal coronet. This carriage did not fail to 
attract the attention that is more than usually bestowed on 
rank, in England. All were empty, however, and more than 
one party of pedestrians entered the venerable edifice, rejoicing 
that the view of a duke or a duchess, was to be thrown in, 
among the other sights, gratuitously. All who passed on foot, 
however, were not influenced by this vulgar feeling ; for, one 
group went by, that did not even cast a glance at the collection 
of carriages ; the seniors of the party being too much accus- 
tomed to such things to lend them a thought, and the juniors 
too full of anticipations of what they were about to see, to 
thiidi of other matters. This party consisted of a handsome 


668 


the two admirals. 


mail of fifty-odd, a lady some three or four years his junior, 
well preserved and still exceedingly attractive ; a young man 
of twenty-six, and two lovely girls, that looked like twins ; 
though one was really twenty-one, and the other but nineteen 
These were Sir Wycherly and Lady Wychecombe, Wycherly 
their only son, then just returned from a five years’ peregrina- 
tion on the continent of Europe, and Mildred and Agnes, their 
daughters. The rest of the family had arrived in England 
about a fortnight before, to greet the heir on his return from 
the grand tour, as it was then termed. The meeting had 
been one of love, though Lady Wychecombe had to reprove a 
few innocent foreign affectations, as she fancied them to be, 
in her son ; and the baronet, himself, laughed at the scraps of 
French, Italian, and German, that quite naturally mingled in 
the young man’s discourse. All this, however, cast no cloud 
over the party, for it had ever been a family of entire con- 
fidence and unbroken love. 

“ This is a most solemn place to me,” observed Sir Wych- 
erly, as they entered at the Poets’ corner, “ and one in which 
a common man unavoidably feels his own insignificance. 
But, we will first make our pilgrimage, and look at these re- 
markable inscriptions as we come out. The tomb we seek is 
in a chapel on the other side of the church, near to the great 
doors. When I last saw it, it was quite alone.” 

On hearing this, the whole party moved on ; though the 
two lovely young Virginians cast wistful and curious eyes be- 
hind them, at the wonders by which they were surrounded. 

“ Is not this an extraordinary edifice, Wycherly ?” half 
whispered Agnes, the youngest of the sisters, as she clung to 
one arm of her brother, Mildred occupying the other. “ Can 
the whole world furnish such another ?” 

“ So much for hominy and James’ river !” answered the 
young man, laughing — “ now could you but see the pile at 
Rouen, or that at Rheiins, or that at Antwerp, or even that at 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


5C9 


York, in this good kingdom, old Westminster would have to 
fall back upon its little tablets and big names. But Sir Wych- 
erly stops ; he must see what he calls his land-fall.” 

Sir Wycherly had indeed stopped. It was in consequence 
of having reached the head of the chmur, whence he could 
see the interior of the recess, or chapel, towards which he had 
been moving. It still contained hut a single monument, and 
that Avas adorned with an anchor and other nautical emblems. 
Even at that distance, the words “ Richard Bluewater, 
Rear-Admiral of the White,” might be read. But the 
baronet had come to a sudden halt, in consequence of seeing a 
party of three enter the chapel, in which he wished to be alone 
with his own family. The party consisted of an old man, Avho 
walked with tottering steps, and this so much the more from 
the circumstance that he leaned on a domestic nearly as old as 
himself, though of a somewhat sturdier frame, and of a tall im- 
posing-looking person of middle age, who followed the two with 
patient steps. Several attendants of the cathedral watched 
this party from a distance with an air of curiosity and respect ; 
but they had been requested not to accompany it to the chapel. 

“ They must be some old brother-officers of my poor uncle’s, 
visiting his tomb !” whispered Lady Wychecombe. “ The very 
venerable gentleman has naval emblems about his attire.” 

“ Do you — can you forget him, love ? ’Tis Sir Gervaise 
Oakes, the pride of England ! yet how changed ! It is now 
five-and- twenty years since we last met ; still I knew him at a 
glance. The servant is old Galleygo, his steward ; but the 
gentleman with him is a stranger. Let us advance ; ive can- 
not be intruders in such a place.” 

Sir Gervaise paid no attention to the entrance of the Wyche- 
combes. It was evident, by the vacant look of his countenance, 
that time and hard service had impaired his faculties, though 
his body remained entire ; an unusual thing for one who had 

48 * 


570 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


been so often engaged. Still there were glimmerings of lively 
recollections, and even of strong sensibilities about his eyes, as 
sudden fancies crossed his mind. Once a year, the anniver- 
sary of his friend’s interment, he visited that chapel ; and he 
had now been brought here as much from habit, as by his own 
desire. A chair was provided for him, and he sat facing the 
tomb, with the large letters before his eyes. He regarded 
neither, though he bowed courteously to the salute of the 
strangers. His companion at first seemed a little surprised, if 
not offended at the intrusion ; but when Wycherly mentioned 
that they were relatives of the deceased, he also bowed com- 
placently, and made way for the ladies. 

“ This it is as what you wants to see. Sir Jarvy,” observed 
Galley go, jogging his master’s shoulder by way of jogging his 
memory. “ Them ’ere cables and hanchors, and that ’ere 
mizzen-mast, with a rear-admiral’s flag a-fiying, is rigged in 
this old church, in honour of our friend Admiral Blue, as was ; 
but as is now dead and gone this many a long year.” 

“ Admiral of the Blue,” repeated Sir Gervaise coldly. 
“ You’re mistaken, Galleygo, I’m an admiral of the white, and 
admiral of the fleet in the bargain. I know my own rank, sir.” 

“ I knows that as well as you does yourself, Sir Jarvy,” 
answered Galleygo, vdiose grammar had rather become con- 
firmed than improved, by time, “ or as well as the First Lord 
himself. But Admiral Blue was once your best friend, and I 
doesn’t at all admire at your forgetting him — one of these long 
nights you’ll be forgetting me.” 

“ I beg your pardon, Galleygo ; I rather think not. I re- 
member ^ou, when a very young man.” 

“ Well, and so you mought remember Admiral Blue, if 
you’d just try. I know’d ye both when young luffs, myself.” 

“ This is a painful scene,” observed the stranger to Sir 
Wycherly, with a melancholy smile. “ This gentleman is now 
at the tomb of his dearest friend ; and yet, as you see, he ap- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


pears to have lost all recollection, that such a person ever 
existed. For what do we live, if a few brief years are to render 
our memories such vacant spots !” 

“ Has he been long in this way?” asked Lady Wychecombe, 
with interest. 

The stranger started at the sound of her voice. He looked 
intently into the face of the still fair speaker, before he an- 
swered ; then he bowed, and replied — 

“ He has been failing these five years, though his last visit 
here was much less painful than this. But are our own 
memories perfect ? — Surely, I have seen that face before ! — 
These young ladies, too — ” 

“ Geodrey — clear Qoxx^m Geoffrey !” exclaimed Lady Wyche- 
combe, holding out both her hands. “ It is — it must be the 
Duke of Glamorgan, Wycherly !” 

No further explanations were needed. All the parties 
recognised each other in an instant. They had not met for 
many — many years, and each had passed the period of life 
when the greatest change occurs in the physical appearance ; 
but, now that the ice was broken, a flood of recollections poured 
in. The duke, or Geoflfey Cleveland, as we prefer to call him, 
kissed his cousin and her daughters with frank affection, for no 
change of condition had altered his simple sea-habits, and he 
shook hands with the gentlemen, with a cordiality like that of 
old times. All this, however, was unheeded by Sir Gervaise, 
who sat looking at the monument, in a dull apathy. 

“ Galleygo,” he said ; but Galleygo had placed himself be- 
fore Sir Wycherly, and thrust out a hand that looked like a 
bunch of knuckles. 

“ I knows ye !” exclaimed the steward, wdth a grin. “ I 
know’d ye in the ofHng yonder, but I couldn’t make out your 
number. Lord, sir, if this doesn’t brighten Sir Jarvy up, 
again, and put him in mind of old times, I shall begin to think 
we have run out cable to the better end.” 


572 


,T UE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“I will speak to him, duke, if you think it advisable?” 
said Sir Wycherly, in an inquiring manner. 

“ Galleygo,” put in Sir Gervaise, “ what lubber fitted that 
cable ? — he has turned in the clench the wrong way.” 

“ Ay — ay, sir, they zs great lubbers, them stone-cutters, 
Sir Jarvy ; and they knows about as much of ships, as ships 
knows of them. But here is young Sir Wycherly Wychecombe 
come to see you — the old ’un’s nevy.” 

“ Sir Wycherly, you are a very welcome guest. Bowldero 
is a poor place for a gentleman of your merit ; but such as it 
is, it is entirely at your service. What did you say the gentle- 
man’s name w'as, Galleygo ?” 

“ Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, the young ’un — the old ’un 
slipped the night as we moored in his house.” 

“ I hope. Sir Gervaise, I have not entirely passed from 
your recollection ; it would grieve me sadly to think so. And my 
poor uncle, too ; he who died of apoplexy in your presence !” 

“ Nullus, nulla, nullum. That’s good Latin, hey ! Duke? 
Nullius, nuUius, nullius. My memory is excellent, gentle- 
men ; nominative, penna ; genitive, pemict, and so on.” 

“ Now, Sir Jarvy, since you’re veering out your Latin, I 
should likes to know if you can tell a ‘ clove-hitch’ from a 
‘ carrick-bend ?’ ” 

“ That is an extraordinary question, Galleygo, to put to an 
old seaman !” 

“Well, if you remembers that, why can’t you just as rea- 
sonably remember your old friend. Admiral Blue ?” 

“ Admiral of the blue ! I do recollect many admirals of 
the blue. They ought to make me an admiral of the blue, 
duke ; I’ve been a rear-admiral long enough.” 

“You’ve been an admiral of the blue once; and that’s 
enough for any man,” interrupted Galleygo, again in his pos- 
itive manner ; “ and it isn’t five minutes since you know’d 
your own rank as well as the Secretary to the Admiralty him- 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


573 


self. He veers and hauls, in this fashion, on an idee, gentle- 
men, until he doesn’t know one end of it from t’other.” 

“ This is not uncommon with men of great age,” observed 
the duke. “ They sometimes remember the things of their 
youth, while the whole of later life is a blank. I have re- 
marked this with our venerable friend, in whose mind I think 
it will not be difficult, however, to revive the recollection 
of Admiral Blue water, and even of yourself. Sir Wycherly. 
Let me make the effort, Galleygo.” 

“ Yes, Lord Geoffrey,” for so the steward always called the 
quondam reefer, “ you does handle him more like a quick- 
working boat, than any on us ; and so I’ll take an hoppor- 
tunity of just overhauling our old lieutenant’s young ’uns, and 
of seeing what sort of craft he has set afloat for the next gen- 
eration.” 

“ Sir Gervaise,” said the Duke, leaning over the chair, 
“ here is Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, who once served a short 
time with us as a lieutenant ; it was when you were in the 
Plantagenet. You remember the Plantagenet, I trust, my dear 
sir ?” 

“ The Plantagenets ? Certainly, duke ; I read all about 
them when a boy. Edwards, and Henrys, and Richards — ” 
at the last name he stopped ; the muscles of his face twitched ; 
memory had touched a sensitive chord. But it was too faintly, 
to produce more than a pause. 

“ There, now,” growled Galleygo, in Agnes’ face, he being 
just then employed in surveying her through a pair of silver 
spectacles that were a present from his master, “ you see, he 
has forgotten the old Planter ; and the next thing, he’ll forget to 
eat his dinner. It’s ivicked, Sir Jarvy, to forget such a ship.” 

“ I trust, at least, you have not forgotten Richard Blue- 
water?” continued the Duke, “ he who fell in our last action 
with the Comte de Yervillin ?” 

A gleam of intelligence shot into the rigid and wrinkled 


574 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


face ; tlie eye lighted, and a painful smile struggled around 
the lips. 

“ What, Dick he exclaimed, in a voice stronger than 
that in which he had previously spoken. “ Dick I hey ! duke ? 
good, excellent Dick ? We were midshipmen together, my 
lord duke ; and I loved him like a brother !” 

“ I kneiv you did ! and I dare say now you can recollect 
the melancholy occasion of his death ?” 

“ Is Dick dead asked the admiral, with a vacant gaze. 

“ Lord — Lord, Sir Jarvy, you knows he is, and that ’ere 
marvel constructure is his monerrnent — now you 7nust remem- 
ber the old Planter, and the County of Fairvillian, and the 
threshing we guv’d him ?” 

“ Pardon me, Galleygo ; there is no occasion for warmth. 
When I was a midshipman, warmth of expression w'as disap- 
proved of by all the elder officers.” 

“ You cause me to lose ground,” said the Duke, looking at 
the steward by way of bidding him be silent : “ is it not ex- 
traordinary, Sir W'^ycherly, how his mind reverts to his youth, 
overlooking the scenes of latter life ! Yes, Dick is dead, Sir 
Gervaise. He fell in that battle in which you were doubled 
on by the French — when you had le Foudroyant on one side 
of you, and le Pluton on the other — ” 

“ J remember interrupted Sir Gervaise, in a clear 

strong voice, his eye flashing with something like the fire of 
youth — “ I remember it ! Le Foudroyant was on our starboard 
beam ; le Pluton a little on our larboard bow — Bunting had 
gone aloft to look out for Bluewater — no — poor Bunting was 
killed—” 

“ Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, who afterwards married Mil- 
dred Bluewater, Dick’s niece,” put in the baronet, himself, 
almost as eager as the admiral had now become ; “ Sir Wych- 
erly Wychecombe had been aloft, but was returned to report 
the Pluton coming down !” 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


575 


“ So lie did ! — God bless him ! A clever youth, and he did 
marry Dick’s niece, God bless them both. Well, sir, you’re 
a stranger, but the story will interest you. There we lay, 
almost smothered in the smoke, with one two-decker at work 
on our starboard beam, and another hammering away on the 
larboard bow, with our top-masts over the side, and the guns 
firing through the wreck.” 

“ Ay, now you’re getting it like a book I” exclaimed Gal- 
leygo exultingly, flourishing his stick, and strutting about the 
little chapel ; “ that’s just the way things was, as I knows 
from seeing ’em !” 

“ I’m quite certain I’m right, Galleygo ?” 

“ Right ! your honour’s righter than any log-book in the 
fleet. Give it to ’em. Sir Jarvy, larboard and starboard !” 

“ That we did — that we did” — continued the old man 
earnestly, becoming even grand in aspect, as he rose, always 
gentleman-like and graceful, but filled with native fire, “ that 
did we ! de Vervillin was on our right, and des Prez on our 
left — the smoke was choking us all — Bunting — no ; young 
Wychecombe was at my side ; he said a fresh Frenchman was 
shoving in between us and le Pluton, sir — God forbid ! I 
thought ; for we had enough of them, as it was. There she 
comes ! See, here is her flying-jib-boom-end — and there — hey I 
Wychecombe ? — Thafs the old Koiiian, shoving through the 
smoke! — Csesar himself! and there stands Dick and young 
Geoffrey Cleveland — he was of your family, duke — there stands 
Dick Bluewater, between the knight-heads, waving his hat — 
HURRAH ! — He’s true, at last ! — He’s true, at last — ■ 
HURRAH! HURRAHr 

The clarion tones rose like a trumpet’s blast, and the cheer- 
ing of the old sailor rang in the arches of the Abbey Church, 
causing all within hearing to start, as if a voice spoke from the 
tombs. Sir Gervaise, himself, seemed surprised ; he looked up 
at the vaulted roof, with a gaze half-bewildered, half-delighted 


576 


THE TWO ADMIRALS. 


“ Is this Bowldero, or Glamorgan House, my Lord Duke/’ 
he asked, in a whisper. 

“ It is neither. Admiral Oakes, but Westminster Abbey ; 
and this is the tomb of your friend, rear-admiral Richard 
Bluewater.” 

“ Galleygo, help me to kneel,” the old man added in the 
manner of a corrected school-boy. “ The stoutest of us all, 
should kneel to God, in his own temple. I beg pardon, gentle- 
men ; I wish to pray.” 

The Duke of Glamorgan and Sir Wycherly Wychecombe 
helped the admiral to his knees, and Galleygo, as was his prac- 
tice, knelt beside his master, who bowed his head on his man’s 
shoulders. This touching spectacle brought all the others 
into the same humble attitude. Wycherly, Mildred, and their 
children, with the noble, kneeling and praying in company. 
One by one, the latter arose ; still Galleygo and his master 
continued on the pavement. At length Geoffrey Cleveland 
stepped forward, and raised the old man, placing him, with 
Wycherly’s assistance, in the chair. Here he sat, with a calm 
smile on his aged features, his open eyes riveted seemingly on 
the name of his friend, perfectly dead. There had been a 
reaction, which suddenly stopped the current of life, at the heart 

Thus expired Sir Gervaise Oakes, full of years and of hon- 
ours ; one of the bravest and most successful of England’s 
sea-captains. He had lived his time, and supplied an instance 
of the insufficiency of worldly success to complete the destiny 
of man ; having, in a degree, survived his faculties, and the 
consciousness of all he had done, and all he merited. As a 
small offset to this failing of nature, he had regained a glim- 
mering view of one of the most striking scenes, and of much 
the most enduring sentiment, of a long life, which God, in 
mercy, permitted to be terminated in the act of humble sub- 
mission to his own greatness and glory. 



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